silhouette photo of person

The man in black

In Halloween there is a twilight that exists nowhere else; it’s the light of a thousand candles against the October sky. Its eerie emptiness is taken over once a year to celebrate the festival the place is named after. My visit is engraved on my memory.

He was dressed in black his cape flapping in the breeze. The mask covering his face left his eyes and mouth exposed. His voice was liquid chocolate; he rationed its use.

She couldn’t help but notice him. His silence drew her in. In this rowdy crowd of drinking revellers gorging on delights from the table in the barn he stood alone. A combination of vodka and hunger gave her the courage to approach him. He reached out to touch her. An owl hooted in the trees, I turned to look. When I looked back, she was gone. He was stood alone.

I went to look for her, it was a one road town. The buildings stood empty; the usual occupants of the cars that lined the pavement were at the party. Traffic did not pass this way often there was no real place to go. The tree lined road led to similar towns in both directions.

I could hear music. In the barn I found empty tables and chairs. Outside the door stood the man in black.

Leave a Reply