I ordered coffee today from a man with eyes that bobbed and shook. Cartoonish and leering, his Halloween mask was huge as I said, regular coffee, light and sweet, please.

Muffled, but casually, he said, two dollars?

With a normal hand he took my cash. Like most of us, the disguise is never complete.

Not a good day for me. My personality was a little drop of moisture running from sunlight.

Those around me are cautious, uncertain, and wondering what will jar me from silence into criticism. Not very happy for any of us. I should live in the camper.

Poor Jerry. He just wants to have decent time with his daughter, time minced and stolen by divorce. Then there is me, the cheerless grouch grouching.

All Hallow's Eve and the lost souls come rushing. Through weak moments and sour thoughts they slip in.