Halloween Stories #1

I was visiting my mother and, out of fairness, decided to go visit my father too. They've been separated for years. (It was nothing personal, only death.)

The journey was as long as you'd expect, walking alone down empty country roads. The trees scattered along the roadside showed black, naked branches against the cold gray October sky.

I found him living in a small, plain house with a roommate he didn't take the trouble to introduce. Such a plain home didn't seem to trouble him as much as it would have once. He was sitting at the desk he'd built himself (I have it in my room) and working on his biography, which was half done.

He said "Every man is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody."

"Mom told me you'd said that, and I was surprised you had. It's Mark Twain."

"I never said it was original."

"I never said you said it was original. What surprised me was that you'd say it about yourself. And that you liked Mark Twain."

"Oh."

"But I wanted to tell you I understand what you meant. I understand you did your best."

"Good. Thank you." And he returned to his work, leaving me to return to my own.

Halloween Stories #2

An old story of mine. It seems appropriate to the season.

Second Story Man

Sunset comes and I awaken in the telephone exchange which was. This is where I spend most of my time now, in the second story of a storefront in the middle of downtown.

( So why is he there? )