31 October 2023
Tuesday. Halloween. Every group tonight came as something. Two ghosts made of bedsheets. A family of mourners in black veils. A ghost hunter with a pretend beeping box, which made me miss the real Beeping Man, who was outside in a real coat, beeping for real.
The bedsheet ghosts were the best. They tripped on their own hems on the stairs. I told them real ghosts don’t need sheets. They didn’t hear me. Nobody ever hears me properly, only the screaming parts.
The grown-ups made everyone wear proper shoes with their toes covered, even the ghosts. You can’t play in my house in slippers. I go barefoot, but that is different.
Every game tonight was full up. The Ceiling Voice says people should book early for nights like this. I say every night should be like this. Every night should be Halloween.
— Cathy (please come back)
