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.
America has always sold itself like a potluck dinner—“Bring your culture! Bring your grandma’s recipes! Bring the funky spices we can pretend we invented!”