When the Night has Fallen

When the night has fallen, I hear the chirp of the crickets, the rustle of leaves, the whistling wind, and the patter of feet. When the night has fallen, I feel the chill of the autumn air from the window, the folds of the sheets, and the frozen fear in my nerves. When the night has fallen, I taste the stolen sweets and the harvest apples. When the night has fallen, I smell the sickly sweet stench of a candy-stuffed child’s breath. When the night has fallen, I see the grinning mask on that little imp’s face. When the night has fallen, so have I.