Undisclosed Location

October Approaches

There’s a shift in the air tonight. You can taste it if you’re quiet long enough.

The warmth is leaving the soil. The wind no longer kisses — it bites. And somewhere in the distance, the crows have begun to speak again. They remember.

I was born for this season. For the crackling chill that runs down your spine without warning. For nights that stretch longer than sin. For the part of the year where good people start glancing over their shoulders — just in case something’s there.

There always is.

October is coming. My month. My altar. My reckoning.

The veil thins. The shadows stretch. And I feel the old things stirring beneath my skin.

The ones I fed.

The ones I called.

The ones I promised I’d return to.

They haven’t forgotten me.

And I… I’ve missed them terribly.

— K