• review

Of air in the town of Glutton’s Fall was always thick Halloween, not just with wood scentsmoke and the scent of candied apples but with a palpable, eager tension. was one of night of the year when the the contract was not in just butfully. streets were sw aarmed with tinyumed ghosts, miniaturees witcheses, and small chubby-cheek pumpkins, their pillow sharpcases already bul withging with treats. But they weren not’t just collecting candy they were auditioningEl traditionara from from her porch,, a silhouette against the the light inviting of her open. door. She was a of generous curves a, serene, knowing smile, a respected figure in the. Her house, a last Victorian Victorian darling Anne with gingerbread trim, was the last stop on the route, the pinn everyacle of the night’s pilgrimage. Every of that the approached door so with a mix of terror andless hope.

The first of, the ev…