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Halloween is coming. The days are closing fast to the Shamhain, the celtic new year, which has been celebrated for over two milleniums. It is also said to be the one time in the year when the living and the dead reunite. Memories return.

It is the eve of October 31, 1990. Pumpkins have been carved into happy and scary faces. Candles are lit, the food and trick and treat gifts are ready. In the garden all are partying by candlelight. Everyone is in halloween fancy dress. I am sitting with my wine by the pond.

"Hi," I turned to face the voice and was taken aback by the realism of the disguise. It was so lifelike and I swear I could see the pumpkin lips move. He spoke again. "Nice party, I was wondering if you know what it's all about?"

"Just a time for fun, a tradition." I answered.

"Ah, but what is tradition? Without us this tradition/party would not be here." I was shocked to see the pumpkin smile again. "Everything is for a reason."

"Us?" I asked puzzled.

"Those who have gone before. Those who know what is to come." The pumpkin turned to look into the distance. "Like the wars and dangers to come."

"Wars? What wars?" I asked, puzzled.

"Two times in the next few years, there will be strife. Your America will be challenged by one madman, the same madman in a country close to Iran." He stood up and looked down. "Beware my friend, for you will both winner and loser be. So say the living dead"

Before I could answer he walked away to stand by a pagoda. I stared at him stunned.

"Are you okay President Bush?" The secret service agent sounded concerned. I pointed to the man who had just left.

"Who is that man?" The agent turned, looked at the man, then went across to him. A few seconds later the agent turned towards me and shrugged. He held open the cloak, but there was no body inside.

The dead returned.

Learn more about this author, Paul Lines.
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