It was dark, I could hear them outside, but

It was dark, I could hear them outside, but I didn't want to move in case they heard me.

I'd been squatting in old Cagliastro's condemned mansion keeping his ghost company.I'd barricaded the door with halbards and the moldering victorian sofa.The police mike squalked,"

I could hardly make out the words, it sounded like he said "This house is haunted!', but the mysterious thing outside was knocking the door to

the core. "Haunted? nonsense." I opened the door. "Trick or Treat!" I brought my bowl of toothbrushes. The ghost was impressive but how was I able to see my Prius through gauze?

"Gauze and paws rhyme" was all I could muster. The ghost's visit had little effect on the prognosis after my stroke. I had so much to say on this Halloween, but couldn't quite get

images of Hot Topic and spider rings out of my head. Damn stroke. That's the last time I hyperventilate to feel high when there is nothing to huff under the cupboard. Stroked out

like a character from Jerk City, I cut out faces from the Land's End catalogue and combine sentences from the words on the opposite page. My head throbs from my stroke. I need to

sell my craftwork but so far nobody at the aged care home is interested. I have never been any good at selling and now with my decking health I just can't seem to

...it's odd how I randomly say the wrong words here and there sometimes when I'm toking...odder still how aware I am of my own dementia. My craft business at the nursing home folde

d but my tea-bagging business went nuts! Like my old Aunt Valetta used to say, "when yer done toking, start ironing squirrels." Nurse, nurse, pain meds, please...NOW!