October 31, 2023

The Halloween That Farted on Its Own Face

October 31, 2023 will forever be remembered as the Halloween that farted on its own face.

This is not to insist it was a bad Halloween. Certainly not! Like all final days of October, this Halloween had swirling leaves, smiling children, and generous amounts of mirth and nougat.

But there were also some eldritch developments.

It snowed. Not just a rogue flake or two spit from the October sky, mind you, but a lot of snow in Chicago. Like three feet. No, not that much. But it snowed steadily throughout the day, a persistent squall of white and wet commingling with the specter of October’s wind and November’s shadow.

And the snow brought a rat. A big rat seen in the back yard helping itself to birdseed that the lovely but messy sparrows had let fall to the dirt. The dog chased the rat which ran under the garage.

Holy shit, is that where it lives?

We will have to deal with the rat eventually, likely by making the yard less hospitable. We don’t want the birds to suffer for their own sins and the ugliness of the rat but, really, a rat cannot be had.

Snow and a rat. We like snow, but not on Halloween. We don’t like rats on any day at all.

Still, it was a lovely Halloween. The snow stopped falling late in the afternoon and the sun was bright and the doorbell rang and there was a parade of young children dressed as Buzz Lightyear, a shark, a superhero turtle, a witch, Charlie Brown, and other wonderful creatures. We gave them candy. They gave us memories.

The snow and cold, though, appeared to have kept many children away. Only a half-dozen or so rang the bell and then it was quickly nightfall and more snow was falling and Halloween, the coldest Halloween ever, receded into nostalgia with a flake or two of regret.

Sitting at the piano at day’s end the song played was Octobers Without You.

The white keys sounded like snow. The black keys were echoes of yesterday. –TK