candycox

There's nothing like strolling around the dark streets of OB late at night...

The stars illuminate the tips of the trees, their branches a striking contrast against the fading glow of the city lights and the quiet hum of sleepy neighborhoods.

I love the way the shadows seem to shroud homes in mystery, cradling their inhabitants in the whisper of darkness, silent, still, forboding like guardians of the night.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. It's the witching hour. Something wicked this way comes... ever read any books by Ray Bradbury? His brilliant sci-fi stories - poetic, fantastical, and even macrabre - of Martian landscapes, Halloween wickedness, illustrations coming to life... his words are the stuff of my dreams and nightmares.

I think of aliens and outer space and of the darkness seeping over the roof tops of the houses.

I think of destruction and desperation and the way the night seems to throb like Poe's tell-tale heart beneath the floorboards.

I love sinister endings to happy stories.



It's more real that way.



I can't wait for Halloween.