Here in the South, fall and winter always lag behind my Midwestern-bred internal calendar. On the next-to-last day of September, it was sunny and 71 degrees, with the leaves still clinging to the trees and few of them showing even a trace of color. Yet folks are already setting out plastic pumpkins and pint-sized ghosts… Continue reading The ghosts of Halloweens past
Stories from the South and the subconscious