I light a cigarette.

I see the embers form on the tip and fall into darkness.

It was the last in the pack. 

I open my creaky door and walk outside.

It’s a gloomy day,

daylight ceases to exist in the presence of the dark.

I inhale and continue walking toward nothing.

I begin to think about fear. 

What is fear?

If I am always fearful, do I really feel fear, or is it ease?

Fear is shunned, dreaded, celebrated, and yearned for, but why? 

A stray cat scurries in the darkness of the night,

they say it’s bad luck.

I don’t know why?

I continue walking,

I stop at a nearby bus stop. 

No buses come by anymore, 

I’m not sure why I stopped. 

I sit and wait,

knowing no one will come. 

After what feels like an hour,

about five minutes,

I head toward the city centrale. 

I pass under the old train track,

oil drips from the rails, 

A rainbow sheen forms across each splatter.

I see vibrant colors in darkness. I start to think, but I get stuck.

I continue walking. 

I smell the sweet scent of caramelized sugar and fresh yeast,

It is my favorite bakery. 

I walk in and am immediately greeted by the baker.

I order a loaf of rye, 

he gives me a canelé. 

I leave with both sweet and sour.

He is always so kind, 

so I’m not sure how to act. 

I put on my earbuds, 

and tear at the sour, leatherlike exterior of the loaf. 

As I eat, I begin to ponder.

Why is fear celebrated during the autumn season?

I seem to ‘fear’ fear, 

that makes no sense.

...

I don’t understand, 

I fear my own confusion. 

I take one last puff of my cigarette and watch as the remaining embers suffocate into ash. 

What is the fascination with Halloween?

I am yet to understand...