CANDY IS in her hand poised over the waiting bag, further action bunged by the thought: “Wow! That’s some creepy kid!” Bundled in thick dark clothing against the Autumn chill, the only costume is a transparent plastic mask. It looks like Bob Hope or perhaps Al Capone. With every hot labored breath condensation pulsates on the underside of the façade. She hears a muffled “Tricky Treat!” And, candy is in her hand . . .

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