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It's me on the other side of everything
Happy Halloween! Our gas company dug a pit at the top of our street this morning, which I'm pretty sure is how you get Nigel Kneale.
The candle in the cat pumpkin blew out twice before five o'clock, so it has been illuminated ever since with a small flashlight. The white and orange pumpkins on the other side of the porch apotropaically mimic the traffic cones with which our street is still afflicted. We had one round of small children before the sun set and are now seeing children of more varied ages, including not actually children, who are of course offered candy, although I am perhaps still most impressed by the small one who had to be coaxed not to spring off the top of our porch into his adults' arms because he was a jumping spider.
Hestia knows what holiday it is.
The candle in the cat pumpkin blew out twice before five o'clock, so it has been illuminated ever since with a small flashlight. The white and orange pumpkins on the other side of the porch apotropaically mimic the traffic cones with which our street is still afflicted. We had one round of small children before the sun set and are now seeing children of more varied ages, including not actually children, who are of course offered candy, although I am perhaps still most impressed by the small one who had to be coaxed not to spring off the top of our porch into his adults' arms because he was a jumping spider.
Hestia knows what holiday it is.
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If you mean Asteroid City, I want to and have not.
(The only film I know of the name Atomic City is a 1952 noir and ditto.)
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