Darkness Over Savannah

I hurried home along the brick sidewalk, peering through the darkness so I wouldn’t break my neck on its irregular surface. My 200-year-old house lay on the other side of the Square, its gaslights flickering through Spanish moss shrouded live oaks.

The hour was getting late and I had much to accomplish on this evening. This was one night I felt freed from the pretenses of my ‘normal’ life, and could brazenly be ME.

I had just placed the black, conical hat on my head when I heard the first knock at my door.

"Trick or treat!" the children called.