<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d30311762\x26blogName\x3dMountain+Mama\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://mountainmama-new.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://mountainmama-new.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d8450706127387021665', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe", messageHandlersFilter: gapi.iframes.CROSS_ORIGIN_IFRAMES_FILTER, messageHandlers: { 'blogger-ping': function() {} } }); } }); </script>

Sunday, October 29, 2006

 

This is a true story of Halloween night at my house last year.

THE OLD WITCH
On halloween night I opened my door to four trick-or-treaters, dressed like a skeleton, a pumpkin, a vampire and something unidentifiable. One I recognized as a neighbor boy, through layers of face paint.

I live at the end of a dead end street without street lights, in a quiet neighborhood. The night was black as coal so I could barely see the silhouetted heads of their mothers in the street in front of my house, as they patiently waited in the drizzling rain.
I dropped fistfuls of sugary treats into the boy's bags, smiling at the squeaky little boy voice saying 'thank-you' from the fanged, bloody mouth of a ferocious vampire.

Just as these brave boys turned to leave there was a horrific flash of lightning and the immediate explosion of thunder. It sounded like a bomb. My front deck shook, and the windows rattled, as for a split second the flash of lightning cast terrifying shadows on the trees in my front yard.
I should have felt sorry for the boys, but when I saw them running in four directions as fast as their legs could carry them, screeching like little girls, I couldn't control my laughter.
I'm sure they thought they had visited an old witch because I was laughing like one as they ran.

I wonder if they will be back this year? Posted by Picasa

|

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home



<p><img border="0" float:left; src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/753/3249/400/Iris%20in%20bloom%20Window.jpg" width="401" height="303"><div></div></a></p>