Halloween Short Story

At the end of October-month skeletons dance on the graves of our mothers and fathers. They rise to the call of the night and bring out their buried fiddles to play a jig. Only Red Jack Robin, little Jack they call him who perches on the branches of the...

Halloween was an unforgettable occasion for me some thirteen years ago. It was late in the evening, and my friend John and I had just finished a game of billiards, when the phone rang. On the other end of the line was an unfamiliar voice, which seemed to be...