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Harvest Moon

By @noellbernard

Harvest Moon

Into the night I step, the wind whistling against my ear like a siren’s summon. My skin crawls. Goosebumps rise as if a fingernail trickles up my arm.

I tug my coat tighter. The extra layer does little to protect against the icy air. Nor does it preclude the shudder engulfing my body as I glance skyward where the once ebony moon hangs low as if it’s plummeted from the Heavens.

Orange like a pumpkin, it glows. In its shadows, the cruel, twisted smile of a ghoul dances, waiting to be carved, to be called forth, to be unleashed.

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