The Backs 2013

Down the bank and through the trees

Where dead leaves whisper in the breeze

Where flowers die in earth bone dry

Is where the cabin sits

 An orange flicker in the gloom

As grim and lonely as a tomb

And far from light and far from sight

Is where the cabin stays

Up the earthen path unpaved

Past pumpkins carved with faces grave

And logs and bricks and skulls on sticks

Is where the cabin waits

   

   

   

We're Halfway to Hallowe'en.

The Backs 2012

The dirt pathway was littered with autumn leaves, and on either side of it thorns and dead shrubs sprouted from the dark soil. Crude crosses of wood were posted into the dry ground, jutting from the earth at odd angles. On top of each was placed a human skull, some with withered skin and tissue still clinging to their ancient, yellowed bones. Flickering jack o'lanterns lined the pathway which led up to an old cabin. And shrouded in shadows, an empty wooden chair sat in the doorway. 

Once you've stepped upon the dirt trail, there is no way out but forward...

We're halfway to Hallowe'en.

The Backs 2011

No groundbreakers.
No witches.
No scarecrows.
No monsters.
No lights.
No props.

 But plenty of atmosphere.

We're halfway to Hallowe'en.