---
Ugly Sycamores
by Joshua L Durkin
There was quiet light coming from the houses that lit the street and sycamores. The light was quiet like the trees were mellow and kind of dirty and worn.
Dan and I walked, he dressed as Serpico and I dressed like Batman—his costume far better, authentic, while mine, the ersatz, caught the eye of a boy with a woman walking the opposite direction. I couldn’t tell what the boy was supposed to be.
—Mom! Look! Batman… with a red beard! he yelled, ran over.
I gave him five and he beamed. I looked up the street to a group of guys Dan and I were going to meet and I thought about how the kid looked clean.
The craggy sycamores craned over us. The kid ran off happy. Somewhere down the walk along flaking sycamores caught in the oversaturated glow of life and the quiet light coming from the houses, you get ugly in ways you don’t expect. On that walk you learn to control your excitement and emotion, you learn not to run excitedly at people to tell them “That’s great!” You learn to look at kids and think, They’re gonna get ugly.
They will most definitely get ugly, but you realize that’s okay, so do good costumes and old trees and comfortable shoes and….
---
What’s Left of the Trees
by Leah Glazer
Hand me another roll!”
I shove my hand to the bottom of the pillowcase, searching for another roll of toilet paper. We've only got two left. One for Logan, and one for myself.
I toss the extra soft white paper over a branch. The paper ripples like waves through the air and gently falls on top of the branch. The heavier end lands in Logan's hands, but quickly soars through the air once more.
CRRRRAAAAAACK!
“What was that?” I say, stopping short.
“It's just the trees; they do that when it's cold. Keep tossing!”
I follow Logan's orders and throw more toilet paper into the tree. As it lands across three branches, the tree bends towards the ground and slowly sways to the right.
KRRREEEEEEEE!
The branches scrape against the cobblestone and chase after our feet. I dart to the left just before the tree can wrap its naked limbs around my ankle as it returns to its straight, lifeless position. The alleyway sits still with an eerie silence.
“I think we should leave,” I whisper.
Logan stands stiff as a board and nods. He slowly takes a step backward towards the street and I follow suit. We've only got two more steps to take before we reach the street and can race home when I step on a crisp, orange leaf.
CRRRRRUUUUNCH!
The branches tremble as the tree trunks twist and turn with fury. The trunks double over as the sharp, lanky limbs coil around our torsos and legs. We open our mouths to scream, but the trees shove their remaining leaves into our mouths as the branches swallow us in.
What’s Left of the Trees
by Leah Glazer
Hand me another roll!”
I shove my hand to the bottom of the pillowcase, searching for another roll of toilet paper. We've only got two left. One for Logan, and one for myself.
I toss the extra soft white paper over a branch. The paper ripples like waves through the air and gently falls on top of the branch. The heavier end lands in Logan's hands, but quickly soars through the air once more.
CRRRRAAAAAACK!
“What was that?” I say, stopping short.
“It's just the trees; they do that when it's cold. Keep tossing!”
I follow Logan's orders and throw more toilet paper into the tree. As it lands across three branches, the tree bends towards the ground and slowly sways to the right.
KRRREEEEEEEE!
The branches scrape against the cobblestone and chase after our feet. I dart to the left just before the tree can wrap its naked limbs around my ankle as it returns to its straight, lifeless position. The alleyway sits still with an eerie silence.
“I think we should leave,” I whisper.
Logan stands stiff as a board and nods. He slowly takes a step backward towards the street and I follow suit. We've only got two more steps to take before we reach the street and can race home when I step on a crisp, orange leaf.
CRRRRRUUUUNCH!
The branches tremble as the tree trunks twist and turn with fury. The trunks double over as the sharp, lanky limbs coil around our torsos and legs. We open our mouths to scream, but the trees shove their remaining leaves into our mouths as the branches swallow us in.
---
The Revelations of Autumn
by Zach Richter
1.
Days when,
as the road flies by,
colors speed by too.
On both sides of cars,
green yields,
to orange yellow and red,
who fall,
so overwhelmed by their dramatic,
transformation, lost from the place,
of birth disconnected from branches,
and flying free –
open eyes in to unknown.
2.
When the shadows,
align with crescent moons,
faces seem to change,
dreams creep through the edges,
of the void,
that hides behind all we know,
and behind all faces, a fake.
3.
For all the days so easily wandered through,
with branches that drop their paper mask,
in the mirror a face stares,
but the branches of the mind are bare,
so the truth of such faces falls,
like so many walls,
and the emptiness of mind stares.
4.
And on we walk,
faceless in hollow clothing,
footsteps like badges,
body bags or clothes being ripped off,
our faces are seen trailing behind –
escaping to the void forgetting,
as we walk on.
And we may never know,
the inside of flesh or souls,
moral claims,
but bodies are splayed.
And all we have are these masks,
we wear, haphazardly.
The Revelations of Autumn
by Zach Richter
1.
Days when,
as the road flies by,
colors speed by too.
On both sides of cars,
green yields,
to orange yellow and red,
who fall,
so overwhelmed by their dramatic,
transformation, lost from the place,
of birth disconnected from branches,
and flying free –
open eyes in to unknown.
2.
When the shadows,
align with crescent moons,
faces seem to change,
dreams creep through the edges,
of the void,
that hides behind all we know,
and behind all faces, a fake.
3.
For all the days so easily wandered through,
with branches that drop their paper mask,
in the mirror a face stares,
but the branches of the mind are bare,
so the truth of such faces falls,
like so many walls,
and the emptiness of mind stares.
4.
And on we walk,
faceless in hollow clothing,
footsteps like badges,
body bags or clothes being ripped off,
our faces are seen trailing behind –
escaping to the void forgetting,
as we walk on.
And we may never know,
the inside of flesh or souls,
moral claims,
but bodies are splayed.
And all we have are these masks,
we wear, haphazardly.
---
Stroll
by Keith Roland
Through the halls I walked and went
The halls of walls and trees
Down the path of leaves all spent
Murmuring of the breeze
They slide and crackle, dead red friends
Chase along behind, nip at my heels
And astride my side they lend
Brush strokes away the grime
Reveals
Wicked, the wicked shades
Along the walls they stalked and bent
The walls consumed my ease
Down the path I now resent
Shaken, then I freeze
They snap and cackle, dusk husk fiends
Hunt, pursue, surround, rip out the seals
Of the fears that I have weaned
So stokes them up, then my mind
Reels
Wicked, the wicked shades
Stroll
by Keith Roland
Through the halls I walked and went
The halls of walls and trees
Down the path of leaves all spent
Murmuring of the breeze
They slide and crackle, dead red friends
Chase along behind, nip at my heels
And astride my side they lend
Brush strokes away the grime
Reveals
Wicked, the wicked shades
Along the walls they stalked and bent
The walls consumed my ease
Down the path I now resent
Shaken, then I freeze
They snap and cackle, dusk husk fiends
Hunt, pursue, surround, rip out the seals
Of the fears that I have weaned
So stokes them up, then my mind
Reels
Wicked, the wicked shades
---
Trick or Treat
by Shannon Spada
I can’t believe we’re actually here!” Sam said, grinning like she had won the lottery.
“Neither can I,” Jackie grumbled. “I wanted to go trick-or-treating.”
“Jackie,” Sam whined, “do you know who Katrina Taylor is? This will be the hottest Halloween party in the entire high school, and we got invited.”
It was exactly 8:10, and Sam in a bunny costume and Jackie as a werewolf stood on the doorstep of Katrina’s tall, gray house. Sam reached over Jackie and rang the doorbell.
On the second chime, the door swung open, flooding the porch in orange light. Katrina Taylor, dressed as a devil with sparkly red horns, smiled down at them. “Hey girls, come on in!”
They followed Katrina down a long hallway to a poorly lit sitting room. Ten of the most popular girls from their class sat cross-legged in a circle on the floor, and they all glanced up when Sam and Jackie walked in.
“This is the hot party?” Jackie whispered.
Sam frowned.
Katrina sat in a gap in the circle and made room for Sam and Jackie. A witch’s hat was positioned upside down in the middle of the circle. Katrina reached for the hat.
“It’s time for Trick or Treat,” she said. Her teeth glistened in the half-light.
Maybe we’re going trick-or-treating after all! Jackie thought as she watched Katrina pass the hat to the girl on her left.
The girl closed her eyes and reached into the hat, pulling out a tiny slip of green paper. She unfolded it and opened her eyes. “Treat,” she read, exhaling.
She passed on the hat, and each girl in the circle retrieved a slip, announcing, “Treat,” after opening each one. Jackie was beginning to wonder what the point of this was when Sam passed the hat to her. She reached into it, only to discover that there was one slip left. The other girls grinned at her as she unfolded it.
“Trick,” she read. “Shouldn’t it say ‘Treat’?”
The girls giggled, and Katrina shook her head slowly. “No,” she said. “Jackie, isn’t this is your first time being in my house?”
“Yeah.”
Katrina’s smile stretched wide. “Then maybe I should give you a tour.”
She stood and gestured for Jackie to do the same. Jackie got up, uncertain, and followed Katrina into the hall. Katrina stopped at the first door they came to.
“This is my cellar,” Katrina said, opening the door.
Jackie leaned through the doorway and peered into the darkness. “It’s—" she began, when Katrina shoved her.
Jackie crashed down the staircase and landed on a concrete floor. A moan escaped from her mouth as she opened her eyes just wide enough to see the slit of light from above cut off. Locked in pitch black, Jackie lay motionless. Everything hurt too much.
“Grrrrrr.”
It came from somewhere behind her. Now more out of fear than pain, Jackie was paralyzed.
“Grrrrrrrrrrr.”
Much closer.
“Hello?” Jackie whispered. “Is this some kind of trick?”
Trick or Treat
by Shannon Spada
I can’t believe we’re actually here!” Sam said, grinning like she had won the lottery.
“Neither can I,” Jackie grumbled. “I wanted to go trick-or-treating.”
“Jackie,” Sam whined, “do you know who Katrina Taylor is? This will be the hottest Halloween party in the entire high school, and we got invited.”
It was exactly 8:10, and Sam in a bunny costume and Jackie as a werewolf stood on the doorstep of Katrina’s tall, gray house. Sam reached over Jackie and rang the doorbell.
On the second chime, the door swung open, flooding the porch in orange light. Katrina Taylor, dressed as a devil with sparkly red horns, smiled down at them. “Hey girls, come on in!”
They followed Katrina down a long hallway to a poorly lit sitting room. Ten of the most popular girls from their class sat cross-legged in a circle on the floor, and they all glanced up when Sam and Jackie walked in.
“This is the hot party?” Jackie whispered.
Sam frowned.
Katrina sat in a gap in the circle and made room for Sam and Jackie. A witch’s hat was positioned upside down in the middle of the circle. Katrina reached for the hat.
“It’s time for Trick or Treat,” she said. Her teeth glistened in the half-light.
Maybe we’re going trick-or-treating after all! Jackie thought as she watched Katrina pass the hat to the girl on her left.
The girl closed her eyes and reached into the hat, pulling out a tiny slip of green paper. She unfolded it and opened her eyes. “Treat,” she read, exhaling.
She passed on the hat, and each girl in the circle retrieved a slip, announcing, “Treat,” after opening each one. Jackie was beginning to wonder what the point of this was when Sam passed the hat to her. She reached into it, only to discover that there was one slip left. The other girls grinned at her as she unfolded it.
“Trick,” she read. “Shouldn’t it say ‘Treat’?”
The girls giggled, and Katrina shook her head slowly. “No,” she said. “Jackie, isn’t this is your first time being in my house?”
“Yeah.”
Katrina’s smile stretched wide. “Then maybe I should give you a tour.”
She stood and gestured for Jackie to do the same. Jackie got up, uncertain, and followed Katrina into the hall. Katrina stopped at the first door they came to.
“This is my cellar,” Katrina said, opening the door.
Jackie leaned through the doorway and peered into the darkness. “It’s—" she began, when Katrina shoved her.
Jackie crashed down the staircase and landed on a concrete floor. A moan escaped from her mouth as she opened her eyes just wide enough to see the slit of light from above cut off. Locked in pitch black, Jackie lay motionless. Everything hurt too much.
“Grrrrrr.”
It came from somewhere behind her. Now more out of fear than pain, Jackie was paralyzed.
“Grrrrrrrrrrr.”
Much closer.
“Hello?” Jackie whispered. “Is this some kind of trick?”
