A Very Short Halloween Story

As a child, when I came home from playing with friends, I had to pass the old pond at the bottom of the hill. I would try to be brave, but the plops and splashes in the water, and the rustling in the grass, would drive me into a state of terror. I would sprint home, bound up the steps of our porch, and race to open the door. I had nightmare fantasies of tentacles and claws and teeth rushing to catch up with me.

Now I am a grown man, taking a chilly autumn afternoon to visit the old neighborhood. I stand by the old pond, and remember my youthful nightmare fantasies.

I did not notice until it blinked, but now all I can see is the huge, pale eye glaring at me from the murky water.