A hollowed-out pumpkin, with an evil grin and squinty eyes, glows in the window of the house next door.
Mr Champagne-Charlie sits behind the letter box, armed with a bucket of sweets and wearing a gorilla mask.
Three young trick or treaters, who I swear are Pelly Sheepwash, Mrs Bancroft and the fragrant Mrs Putter gone backwards a few times on Ray Bradbury's carousel, beam when I give them some fun-sized Mars Bars and a packet of Maltesers.
And then they go next door, and, by the pricking of my thumbs, I hear a blood-curdling scream.
'Oobee doo, I wanna be like you-oo-oo,' Champagne-Charlie sings from behind the mask. But it is a muffled mix of latex and tone deafness.
The three little maids from school hot foot it up the road, the treats flying in their wake.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
The Beetle’s trundled more than eighteen hundred miles across Italy and France, with cars and lorries tooting both in frustration (it takes...
They say that good things come in threes... Well, two good things have just happened to me, writing-wise. There's a feature about my...
Once upon a time, a long time ago, I was a child in a meadow with a woodland circle of beech trees around me. And there was clover growing i...
Once upon a time, when I was fit, I cycled up to the most wonderful place on earth. It's in West Dorset and, when you get to the to...
We slipped out of the hallway, Martha the dog and me, edging past baskets of logs, boxes of things for a village event, a dog crate and musi...