Tonight the witches don't hide. Tonight the ghosts walk the porch. Tonight the dog stares at corners. Halloween.
New Wishes
A handful of wishes pulled from the cabinet this morning. Pick one up — copy, save it to your pinboard, or send it on.
The leaves are dry. The path is dark. The doorbell is ringing. Open it. They're only kids. (Probably.)
Tonight, between the streetlamps and the porch lights, there are spaces where strange things have always been allowed. Be kind to them.
The wind tonight has a kind of memory in it. October knows what it's doing.
A black cat crossed the lawn. The porch light flickered. Somewhere a kid in a bedsheet just remembered the rules.
Tonight is the one night the ghosts in the attic are allowed to come downstairs. Leave the kettle on. Just in case.
What are we writing today?
Cabinets sorted by occasion. Open one — pages are arranged by warmth, not algorithm.
- Anniversary
- Baby
- Belated
- Best
- Birthday
- Boy
- Boyfriend
- Christian
- Christmas
- Congratulation
- Diwali
- Easter
- Eid Mubarak
- Engagement
- Farewell
- Fathers Day
- Friendship
- Funny
- Get Well
- Girl
- Girlfriend
- Good Morning
- Good Night
- Graduation
- Hanukkah
- Heart Touching
- Holiday
- Invitation
- Job
- Love
- Miss You
- Mothers Day
- New Year
- Recovery
- Retirement
- Romantic
- Thank You
- Thanksgiving
- Wedding
- Well
- Women's Day
- Sympathy
- Valentine's Day
- Halloween
- Veterans Day
The candle in the pumpkin will not blow out. The wind tries. The wind is wrong tonight.
Tonight, the wolves in your dreams have permission. Let them run. They'll be gone by sunrise.
October ends tonight. Whatever wanted to be remembered, will be. Whatever wanted to come back, may. That's the bargain.
The fog rolled in at exactly 7:42. Right on schedule. The pumpkins approved.
Tonight the trees know your name. Don't be alarmed. They knew it last October too.
The smallest ghost on your porch is six years old. She's after the candy, not the soul. Be generous on both counts.
The crow on the fence is watching. He always is. Tonight, however, he might wave back.
Tonight, in the dark beyond the porch light, there are stories. Light a candle anyway. Just in case.
Old bones, old houses, old leaves. October is patient. Halloween knows when to arrive. It always does.
The moon is fat and bright tonight. The trees are bare and wise. The porch is open. The bowl is full. Come.
There is a creak in the floorboards your house has never made before. Tonight, don't ask. Tonight, leave it alone.
The wind through the dry corn sounds almost like laughing. Or whispering. Tonight, you don't have to know which.
Tonight, what's gone visits. What's old wakes. What's been waiting steps quietly into the kitchen. Leave a chair pulled out. Just in case.
Light the candles. Carve the pumpkin. Hang the lanterns. Halloween hears your invitation.
The dog won't go in that room tonight. She's right. Trust her. Let her sleep on your bed instead.
Tonight the world is a little stranger than yesterday. By morning, it will be a little stranger still.
The candle in the jack-o'-lantern stays lit because something is watching it. That something means well. Probably.
Sleep well, if you can. The witching hour is patient. It always finds the right house.
Loving you is the most useful thing I do all day.