The Passing of the Hat: A Halloween Story
The harvest moon hangs heavy in the velvet embrace of the sky. Near the curled shoes of Bella Baker, a toad jumps into taller grass. The song of crickets rises and falls. The crisp air of Samhain finds all exposed flesh and gives it a little nip, just enough to remember that one is alive.
When Ali, Casey, and I were in college down in central Illinois, we lived in this great place just a block off campus. It was situated at the top of a hill overlooking the town smack dab in the middle of Greek Row, snuggled between the Beta and SAE houses—a modest, three-bedroom house with a front porch and back patio, and yard that made it ideal for barbecues and other themed or not themed parties.