The House October Built

When you step from the car,

you smell fall.

That crisp scent
of leaves beginning to change,
of cool air
and something almost forgotten.

There is a light chill
in the air,

just enough
to make you pull your arms
a little closer.

You hear laughter
somewhere ahead,

and the distant sounds
of October waiting for you.

Popcorn.

Caramel apples.

The sweet smell
of the season
drifting through the air
as you walk toward the home.

The steps creak
beneath your feet.

And somehow,
you feel it—

ancestry.

Ghosts.

Not the kind
that make you afraid,

but the kind
that make you feel
as though you've come home.

They don't scare you.

They welcome you.

The old house
seems to know
you are coming.

Its doors wait open.

Its windows glow.

And for just a moment,
you wonder
if this is really
a haunted house attraction,

or if you've been invited
somewhere else entirely.

Inside,
there is fear,

but there is whimsy, too.

A little bit of magic
hidden beneath
the cobwebs.

A little bit of laughter
between the screams.

A little bit of October
in every shadow.

You walk deeper
into the house,

and the sounds
surround you—

footsteps,

laughter,

music,

the creak of old floors,

the sudden shriek
of someone being scared
and then laughing
because they know
it isn't real.

Or at least,
they hope it isn't.

The air inside smells
of old wood,

and candles burning
somewhere nearby.

You wander
through the haunted house

in darkness,

through rooms
that seem to hold
pieces of another time.

You don't feel
like a visitor.

You feel invited.

As though October
has opened its door
and said,

come in.

Stay awhile.

There is still time
for one more scream,

one more laugh.

As you step back outside

October feels
like a last warm hug.

Not quite goodbye,

but close enough
to feel it coming.

one more walk
beneath the falling leaves.

One more night
of spooky fun.

One final hoorah
as the nights get longer,

before the pumpkins
begin to rot,

before the leaves
finish falling,

before October
has to leave you

until next year.