Notes from the Small Pond...Verisimilitude
Halloween night, the corner of Chestnut and Park, around 10:45, fire licking low in the fireplace, lights in the living room dim, the remaining candy resting abandoned in a bowl next to the front door, the mass of Trick-or-Treaters severely thinned, save the ninth-graders, knocking between long intervals of quiet, muttering, "Trickerfreakintreat," breath like Michelob and cigarettes, faces costumed with nylon stockings, beard stubble poking through, like grown-up bad guys.
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