Halloween is almost here.  Just a reminder.  We don't get any trick-or-treaters here on the lake.  I miss that. 
Being a former schoolteacher, I can imagine what today will be like in the elementary schools; a fun day for the kids, a test of patience for the teachers. 
All right.  I may go pick up Jess today.  There's only a chance of drizzle this morning, and the temperature is going to stay around 66.  Sounds like a good day for walking/hiking. 
So have a good one.  Here's a bit from UnSeen.  Over and Out!
UnSeen:

I slipped on a patch of ice but managed not to fall.  Clutching the books, I moved away from the bunkhouse as quickly as I could.  When I reached the steps of my home, I bounded up them, never looking back until I was safely inside, with a locked storm between me and the outside world.  

The porch lights remained on at the bunkhouse.  For the briefest of moments I saw something move; the Shadow stepped into the light.  I blinked and it was gone. 

“Dinner’s on,” called my mother.  My appetite had evaporated, as had the Shadow. 

Later, when I got the chance, I called Brooke and Jordan.  We all agreed I had to talk to Mrs. Peach as soon as possible.  My opportunity came the next morning. 

“Pork balls and Sauerkraut,” Mrs. Peach announced as she entered the kitchen waving a piece of paper in her hand.  “Vera made it famous forty years ago at the county fair.”

My father patted his firm stomach.  “You are going to be the ruin of me, Peach.”

“I doubt that.”  Mrs. Peach smiled and helped herself to a cup of coffee.  

Minutes later, we were alone.  I wasted no time.  “I have an odd sort of question,” I said.  “Promise not to laugh.” 

“What’s on your mind, dear?”

I took a deep breath.  “Do you know anything about the bunkhouse being haunted?” 

Mrs. Peach sat her coffee cup down on the table and took the seat next to me.  We could hear Avery and my mother talking and laughing upstairs.  We didn’t have long.  “What’s wrong, Autumn?  Are the lights still going out?”

I shook my head.  “No, ma’am, it’s worse than that.”  I quickly told her about seeing the Shadow for the first time, the night it looked at me through the porch window, and a few nights ago, when it scratched at the bunkhouse door and rattled the doorknob, and finally, last evening, when, as I was leaving the bunkhouse, I heard chuckling and saw the Shadow standing at the end of the porch. 

“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Peach.  “Vera’s ghost was real.”