Hunt

16:07 Perdita held her mother’s hand, awkwardly through the thick gloves, but tight. The eye-holes above her snout restricted her view, so she relied on her mother to guide her safely. This year she was a werewolf.

The cul de sac was infested with all manner of ghouls, grotesques, and ghastlies, all milling this way and that; practically pouring over one another as they giddily gandered from one home to the next. A monster stood alone in the crowd.

The development’s parent association had given the annual Halloween event a far more rigid structure and tighter window, for safety, with strict and rehearsed instructions about going no further than Juniper Way and only visiting doors with the pre-arranged Treat hangings affixed to their front; nearly every occupant agreed to join the revelry, so almost every front door was adorn with this bright green signifier.

16:09 Perdita recognised, through the limiting eye-holes of the mask, her friend Caden; one among a throng of Spider-Men. She tugged at her mother’s hand to turn them both in his direction, so that they could go knocking on doors together.

The associated din of the event – screaming, roaring, cackling – resembled the usual cacophony of a school playground during the lunch hour, only boosted and amplified by the exciting crackle of an out-of-school gathering. Spirits were high; the time had come.

The entire event was scheduled to begin at four in the afternoon and last thirty minutes; the planned timing of the event providing parents an hour to dress up their children after school and, crucially, ending before sunset. For safety.

16:14 Perdita removed her paw to better sort the modest collection of haribo packets and mini-size chocolate bars she had amassed over the last five minutes. Once satisfied, she replaced the glove and once again took hold of her mother’s hand.

Someone in the neighbourhood must have lit a bonfire in the afternoon, as the air was thick with the earth-sweet aroma of charred leaves and wood. Wrappers littered the pavements, crumpling silently under heavy boots.

Pamphlets and posters appeared a fortnight before the evening, informing and instructing the community of the agreed-upon rules and regulations of the festivities to come. They designated it the Annual Halloween Broomstick & Treat, to avoid any connotations with pranking or trickery, and also to shoehorn a witchcraft pun for good measure.

16:22 Perdita was left with Caden to compare the contents of their plastic pumpkin heads as her mother disappeared through the crowd of parents, creatures and superheroes to drop something off with a friend from work. After clumsily swapping a mars for a bounty, she felt her mother’s hand take hold through the glove, and waved hurriedly goodbye to Caden with her bucket as she was turned away, heading home.

The setting sun shot crepuscular beams through sanguine clouds, gold-red and shrinking as the tail lights of a car. Costumed children tumbled with greedy urgency between buildings; a recent whistle blow alerting them to the final few closing minutes of their evening’s amusement.

This was the new development’s third year, and the second time it had organised such an event for Halloween. Last year was a great success, even though there were relatively fewer families moved in by that point. This year, you could barely see down the street from the monsters in attendance.

16:28 Perdita was gone.

(As a special treat, here’s an alternative layout for the same short story…)

Making Plans

The development’s parent association had given the annual Halloween event a far more rigid structure and tighter window, for safety, with strict and rehearsed instructions about going no further than Juniper Way and only visiting doors with the pre-arranged Treat hangings affixed to their front; nearly every occupant agreed to join the revelry, so almost every front door was adorn with this bright green signifier.

The entire event was scheduled to begin at four in the afternoon and last thirty minutes; the planned timing of the event providing parents an hour to dress up their children after school and, crucially, ending before sunset. For safety.

Pamphlets and posters appeared a fortnight before the evening, informing and instructing the community of the agreed-upon rules and regulations of the festivities to come. They designated it the Annual Halloween Broomstick & Treat, to avoid any connotations with pranking or trickery, and also to shoehorn a witchcraft pun for good measure.

This was the new development’s third year, and the second time it had organised such an event for Halloween. Last year was a great success, even though there were relatively fewer families moved in by that point. This year, you could barely see down the street from the monsters in attendance.

Gathering Supplies

The cul de sac was infested with all manner of ghouls, grotesques, and ghastlies, all milling this way and that; practically pouring over one another as they giddily gandered from one home to the next. A monster stood alone in the crowd.

The associated din of the event – screaming, roaring, cackling – resembled the usual cacophony of a school playground during the lunch hour, only boosted and amplified by the exciting crackle of an out-of-school gathering. Spirits were high; the time had come.

Someone in the neighbourhood must have lit a bonfire in the afternoon, as the air was thick with the earth-sweet aroma of charred leaves and wood. Wrappers littered the pavements, crumpling silently under heavy boots.

The setting sun shot crepuscular beams through sanguine clouds, gold-red and shrinking as the tail lights of a car. Costumed children tumbled with greedy urgency between buildings; a recent whistle blow alerting them to the final few closing minutes of their evening’s amusement.

The Hunt

16:07 Perdita held her mother’s hand, awkwardly through the thick gloves, but tight. The eye-holes above her snout restricted her view, so she relied on her mother to guide her safely. This year she was a werewolf.

16:09 Perdita recognised, through the limiting eye-holes of the mask, her friend Caden; one among a throng of Spider-Men. She tugged at her mother’s hand to turn them both in his direction, so that they could go knocking on doors together.

16:14 Perdita removed her paw to better sort the modest collection of haribo packets and mini-size chocolate bars she had amassed over the last five minutes. Once satisfied, she replaced the glove and once again took hold of her mother’s hand.

16:22 Perdita was left with Caden to compare the contents of their plastic pumpkin heads as her mother disappeared through the crowd of parents, creatures and superheroes to drop something off with a friend from work. After clumsily swapping a mars for a bounty, she felt her mother’s hand take hold through the glove, and waved hurriedly goodbye to Caden with her bucket as she was turned away, heading home.

16:28 Perdita was gone.

(Happy Halloween!)