Halloween short

The Evening Post, Halloween 2009, The town of Evening


Report by Bernard Shaw

The town of Evening was looking forward to a relatively normal Halloween celebration this year, and, as candlelit pumpkins sat in the doorways of homes all over the town on halloween night everything looked set for a healthy celebration of an old festival. However, things have been reported that have shocked this reporter. Everyone knows that the town of Evening has been home to a very traditional market that have long used the traditional system of buying and selling in pounds and ounces. Recently though this system has been subject to an overhaul, seeing the modern measurement of kilograms and grams. A Mrs. Oakley of the town market was found shaken and somewhat disturbed this week when market day coincided with October 31st.

Mrs. Oakley, a traditional stall worker on the market, was going about her usual business on Saturday (the day of halloween) but had noticed a stall at the end of her row that she had not noticed on any previous trading day. Mrs Oakley was the last person to pack up her stall and told The Evening Post that she saw a number of customers avoiding the strange new stall on the corner of her trading row. She took pity on the figure at the stall and had this to say, 'I approached the stall and asked the man at the stall what he wanted for half a kilo's worth of apples.'. Mrs Oakley continues, 'He kept repeating this phrase "A pound of apples for halloween deary" over and over again'. When Mrs Oakley went to fetch some money the man disappeared along with all his goods. 'I turned around and the next time I looked he was gone!', she reports.

Another strange occurrence happened to a man named Ronald Turnip, who happens to be the manager of the market. Mr Turnip was cycling home late on Halloween night after a drink with his friends. When passing Evening market he slipped off his bicycle and said he was roused by an abnormal figure who 'offered me a pound of apples', Mr Turnip recalls. Mr Turnip reported that after this despite a bad fall he was able to cycle home again. 'I remember falling off my bike and bumping my head. When I woke up a strange figure offered me apples in the old measurement of pounds', said Mr Turnip. 'He then took money from me and insisted that I ate his tasty fruit, but when I got home there was no sign of the bag of apples he had given me'.

These strange goings on require more investigation. So far efforts by the police to locate these unlicensed sellers have been to no avail. But Mr Ronald Turnip has controversially shifted back to the old system of measurement, though denies it is because 'of that strange encounter'.

seeding aside

What do you do when your heart runs dry? When there is no longer any song to sing? We have our own coping strategies. I went for a walk and saw bats, geese, and deer. It passes the time. I could hardly believe my eyes when the spectacle of a freshly ploughed field sat before me with the bright afterglow of the sun. I made myself scarce as I could hear gruff voices. Panicking the evening air. I was out of there. I felt a little like the Peacock I had disturbed on my inward walk! Made it home safely. A foxless evening. But not a birdless one.

bear via seeding

I was engaged in a spot of cloud seeding when I decided to go for a diversion. I was going to hunt the bear. So shiny and animal-like. I landed and handed my keys to my butler. Then I started down the lane. Initially I was confronted and engaged in combat with a spiteful Leprechorn.

bed

My bed is good. My bed rests my head. You see that there is some kind of life even in drudgery? Making my bed is fun. Sleeping on my bed is technical. What sleeping bag will I choose? I like Vaude. Somtimes the appetite for life dries up. But decisions need to be made at speed.

I could do with a woman one day. To dwell with. And to be company to.

Please will someone give me adventure. I am want to pick and wander. I am like a beautiful butterfly or moth. I am like the fly. But the joy is subtle!

great difficulty

A tiring day. Sometimes the furthest you can be from other people is when you are closest to them. It is tiresome this life of luxury. There is always something that needs tending. Technology is everywhere. When on the bike you can choose to rest. To talk, to watch. There is something deeply human about that. It is good to drive too.

This week I cycled to the bike shop to pick up my best bike. It was interesting to see so many people. There were singles and couples. It is a real luxury to speak I suppose. The world of the home is private. The public world is rather secretive. I cleaned the car today and out at the front of the house I felt betrayed at times by the lack of good will in others. I suppose I am anonymous and in their head another of thousands that they will pass by.

The car was hot after a run on the motorway. It needs lots of care and attention. There is existing and there is living. When you are not so well off existing becomes living. Living is more subtle. I am learning. Loneliness is difficult. Cheek can be vital. I will slip through a park and gather bark. Sticks. Or stare at the people. They don't have any idea!

rated reticulation

Coherent, compatible, living entities. Small settlements and a mountain obscured by a Glacier.

It was late

It was late. A cold night. The wind swept through the town and I felt like a wanderer. I forced my way through the chilly thick air in haste. I knew this was dead man’s alley. As I passed the threshold my stress heightened. To my side I could see the park shrouded in darkness. Damp, cold, fearful. In my hands I carried beams. Two torches with which to bring the light. And there before me a rogue of the field.