The Blood Moon is Nigh

Photo of Blood Moon

 

 

 

 

 

Day 55

My once peaceful abode in the village is changing. I feel it is becoming darker and more sinister. Where I was once able to have my windows open day and night to the fresh mountain air, the temperature at night has now dropped. Several nights I have been forced to pile blankets on the bed and have awoken to the chill fingers of dawn tweaking my nose.

Day 59

The coyotes, which I once joking called the children of the night, now bay throughout the day from their hiding places in the canyons. I hear them taunting me and I hesitate to walk to the mailbox for I fear that a pack of them will burst from the brush and set upon me like jackals scenting a feast.

Day 62

My days are increasingly filled with the incessant howling of the coyotes. But somehow the howling seems different, deeper. I saw a larger shadow skirt the edges of the trees one evening with glowing red eyes. Was it a wolf? I have never heard of wolves in this area. Is it possible that the coyotes are breeding with a wolf or some other sort of creature? Or is possible that my little New Mexico village harbors a pack of were coyotes?

Aside from these haunting questions, my last few nights had been free of their howling yips and cries and I was able to have some small peace. Alas, last night a new creature arrived to torture me. From the screaming and screeching, I guessed that it was a banshee from the lands of my ancestors. It was so close I felt surely it must be either on the roof of my adobe house or right outside the wall. Taking a deep breath, I counseled myself to think rationally. It was not a banshee, but perhaps it was a bobcat or mountain lion. Regardless, I dared not look outside to find out.

Day 65

Looking in the mirror, I have noticed giant blue-black circles painted beneath my eyes. My ginger curls seemed diminished and I have more and more reddish-blonde strands upon the floor and upon my pillow. A cursory run of my fingers through my hair leaves strands drifting to the floor. The stress of coyotes howling throughout the day and nights filled with screaming from some still mysterious creatures has taken its toll on my body. My days are now filled with endless cups of tea as I seek to soothe my fears and woes in that liquid warmth.

The blood moon is nigh. If I survive that, I must then face All Hallow’s Eve when the veil between the worlds thins. I fear what may pass through the misty veil.

Day 66

This morning I sat down to write within my journal. I discovered an entry from yesterday that I do not recall writing nor was the handwriting my own. Is there someone else in the house? Do I have multiple personalities? Is it some spirit from beyond attempting to communicate with me? I dare not even put to paper the other thought that haunts my mind.

Today, I must venture out to find some rowan wood and stop by the church for some holy water. If I am successful and no were-coyotes set upon me, when I return I shall circle the house in salt. My bed shall be surrounded by charms and amulets retrieved from cereal boxes of yore. And I shall mix the ink of my pens with the holy water so that whatever writes within my journal must reveal itself.

 

Should you find this journal…

 

 

 

 

 

Remember, that I love tall tales! It’s never too early to start having a little Halloween fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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