A thick blanket of decaying leaves lay solemnly on the side walk, a white church steeple towers over surrounding trees, a fresh morning fog coats the suburban landscape.Hollowed pumpkins line the porches and gardens of the colonial housing, their animated carved faces watching over the neighbourhood.
The calming sound of a flowing river echoes through the streets clashing with the calls of the local farmhand. The chiming of the church bell interrupts the peaceful town as people begin to stream from the church doors into the fields and streets. The community awakened after their morning prayer, children weave through the trees and leaves, their laughter filling the air with life. Birdsong carries into the night and before long masked ghosts and ghouls wonder the streets, they go house to house in search of something. Longing for something to wet their appetite for the night, candy!
Parents lag behind as their children knock door to door, carrying their ever filling baskets of sugary goodness. The night grows stronger and less and less children fill the streets until all that's left are the illuminating carcasses of once whole jack- o - lanterns.
A shadowed figure watches from an attic window, lights blacked out, chair pulled up to enjoy the view. Pen and notepad to hand, he notes everything he sees, every noise, every smell, every sound. His senses heightened as his words come to life on the page. A novelist from out of town, He always made it his duty to know his neighbours before they knew him. It was just easier that way, as a writer he found it easier to hide behind the facade in his notepad. His life etched into the pages of his dearest possession
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Day Of My Death
Mistério / SuspenseAn isolated writer must confront his past when his once serene story is threatened by the horrible images of his reality as they appear on the streets below.
