Dara flipped the sign on the door of her gift shop to “closed” then stepped out onto the street to lock up for the evening. The late day sunlight gleamed gold but lacked any real warmth, and she shivered as a chill wind gusted up the busy street.

She fit her key into the lock and turned it until the deadbolt answered with a loud click. After dropping her keys back into her purse, she glanced one last time at the Halloween candle sculptures she’d arranged in the lighted window display an hour or so before.

Amid the orange, tinsel-strewn display stood three elegantly detailed black cats with glittery-green gemstone eyes and sleek, arched backs—some of the finest candle work she’d turned out in months.

A small smile tugged at . She left the shop and walked down Main Street, huddling deep into her leather blazer as traffic rushed the intersections in stops and starts, stirring up gales of cold wind.

She crossed with the light and took a deep breath, slipping her purse higher on her shoulder as she hopped up on the opposite curb and made her way toward home.

The hot-oil smell of funnel cake and corn dogs frying hit her the minute she rounded the corner. Shady, tree-lined Park Street had been closed off to traffic for Arborville’s annual Halloween along the Avenue celebration. Booths lined both sides of the street, and hay bales had been arranged curbside for sitting on, and to house the massive pumpkin displays set up every few feet.

Dara followed the foot traffic, cutting across the street when the crowds grew too thick. The amplified echo of someone speaking into a microphone drew her attention to her right, and as she continued up the block toward Hongdae Street, she noticed that a costume contest was going on in the pocket park between the barber shop and the Trinity Church.

Her gaze lingered on the announcer and the makeshift stage until a small swarm of kids in costumes came squealing up the sidewalk. She quickly stepped aside and watched them pour in to the park swinging pumpkin-shaped candy pails: a witch, Frankenstein, and a red devil.

Amused, she thought about sticking around, but someone stopped near her with a steaming tray of chili-cheese nachos and her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and knew if she didn’t get home soon, she’d give into the temptation of carnival food.

Thinking about the left over chicken strips and potato salad she’d put in the fridge, she picked up the pace, following the block down to the intersection and rounding the corner onto Hongdae Street.

The thought of good food reminded her of her childhood and living at home with her parents, and a wave of nostalgia swept through her. Normally she spent Halloween in Busan with her mother and stepfather, and at least a dozen other relatives that brought way too much good food with them. But business had been slow this year, and her best friend of five years had moved upstate to take a better paying job. She just didn’t feel up to the socializing. She’d been restless lately, a little bummed out. Instead of the usual routine, she planned to stay home, light a few candles and do a bit of chanting. Maybe take a rosewater bath then sit down with a cup of tea and her computer to play Mutant Street Wars in her bunny slippers.