Around a Spectral Fire
All Hallowed Eve, 2015
At the crossing of two ancient paths three bums of the elder kind sit around a time-painted iron drum burning with a bluish fire, reclining on castoff couches under an inky, starless autumn sky. Where the footpath of hobo kind crosses the railroad tracks that likewise saw the daily passage of relics along its way, three men discuss that most accursed night as it approaches.
