Bookstore In Copenhagen, Denmark. 1899. 

Encounter 

by Felix Riano

Imagine you're a writer, and there are people scribbling in the margins of your books, underlining their favorite passages, leaving makeshift bookmarks between the pages (subway tickets, library receipts, handwritten notes), reading excerpts out loud to their friends and lovers or to themselves just to feel the words on their tongue, memorizing quotes and then copying them in their notebooks, daydreaming about your characters and excitingly speculating about what's going to happen to them in the sequel, writing reviews in their school newspaper.

Kan- wa ma kan.

It was- and it was not.

It's how all the stories start. They tell you of what was and what wasn't, but they don't tell you which is which.

Perhaps you are seven. Perhaps you are eight. You ask the sweet, greying hakawati (story crafter) "but a'amu (uncle), was it real?" Your eyes bright with eagerness and hope. And he tells you, his smile never faltering, "kan wa ma kan, my child. It was and it wasn't. Perhaps it is real. Perhaps there were caverns and theives and treasure. Perhaps there were empires and warriors and charmers. Perhaps it was the land of mysteries- the very land that Shahrazad spoke of. And perhaps it was not."

You close your eyes to better imagine the stories the old man tells. What a wild thing it was, your imagination- and even wilder his was, for the stories he crafted were his own. Flying carpets. Music. Mercenaries. A king's banquet. A marid (jinn) to make your wishes come true. "But was it?" You ask. Desperately hoping it was. And more so wishing it is. "It was and it wasn't," your hakawati says smiling.

You can smell the sweet smoke from the altars that burn ever so steadily; consuming an offering to gods long forgotten. You can hear the echoes of music long since silenced. You see the dances of people long dead. You know their stories. "But was it?" You press further. "It was and it wasn't," the old man says, his smile never fading.

You're out in the golden dunes of Arabia. A glistening object catches your eye and you take hold of it- and you are knocked back by the force of the marid storming out. "Shobeik lobeik. A'bdak bein edeik. Your wish is my command." He says. But you have no desire for anything other than answers "was it real?" You ask, but he disintegrates into whatever nothingness he came from, leaving you asking yourself whether or not it was. Whether or not you are.

You are growing up. You are now thirteen. You have yet to stop asking "was it?" Your father says it was not. Your brother says it was not. Your friend says it was not. But you are wild and stubborn. You say "but what if it was?" And they laugh you off.

Four years later and you are seventeen; and the raging fire of the stories' magic within you dims to embers. Your hakawati has long since passed away. You keep his smile tucked into a fold so deep in your heart you nearly forget about it. And you stop asking for stories. You stop asking "was it?" And what is even worse, though, is that you start to believe that perhaps, after all, it was not. That it never was.

But I am here to tell you this; it was. You spoke to the marid. You heard the music. You saw the people dancing and you smelled the offerings to their gods. It might be so deep within you, as deep as your beloved hakawati's smile is buried. And I want you to know that you, now, have your answer.

"Ah, September! You are the doorway to the season that awakens my soul... but I must confess that I love you only because you are a prelude to my beloved October." 🍁🎃🌙

- Peggy Toney Horton

do you ever just accidentally stumble across the most delicious sentence in the middle of a book and are forced to stop just to revel in its beauty??

The Argent 

A Ghoster mini-comic. 

Read online

Night Traffic

Suitable for inducting future children of the night into the horror genre, for horror fans new and old, this film is an essential viewing featuring horror icon Bela Lugosi in the titular role of Dracula.

Overall, this film has quite the suspenseful cinematographic atmosphere though it can feel a bit stiff and disconnected at times. Some of my favorite scenes involve Dracula getting out of his coffin under his creepy crypt or when the camera focuses on his eyes when he compels his victims. Honestly, Lugosi brings out the Stranger Danger!!! bell warnings every time he appears on the screen.

Aside from Bela Lugosi, I personally felt that Dwight Frye and Edward Van Sloan, who played Renfield and Dr. Van Helsing respectively, really stole the show with their acting especially Frye when portraying Renfield's madness. Sloan really brings out Dr. Van Helsing's confidence in dealing with Dracula with his arsenal of crosses and wolfsbane.

The entire movie is roughly over an hour so it's a good pick for a quick horror sesh and as I've said before, due to the lack of blood and at most, suggestive biting from Dracula himself, the movie can be a good introduction to young minds ready to be warped into the horror genre.

Happy Hauntings!

Sleepy baby