A Halloween Story - Round Richmond Park In The Dark

We set off, all of us, huddled together in the dark. Lights loomed from either side and flashes of red, green and orange made us stop and start in fear. We found our path and wound our way up the hill to search for the gate and its keeper. He stood in our path, large and wrought with anger. We sneaked in by his side and found ourselves in a magical place, so dark, so very dark. We shouldered our fears, put our lights and smiles on full beam and set off to lighten the darkened lands before us.

The wind whistled through our clothes, numbing feet, ears and toes but still we pressed on. Lights dangled, spilling globes of enlightenment on the ground. We split into groups to weave our own magical spells in the dark, talking incantations to ward off the demons in the dark.

Soon we had a hill to climb; a mysterious shape loomed in the dark distance. We pooled our tricks and spells, flicked our gears and trod on our pedals to conjure an allure to take us over the looming giant. Our spell took us clear and we sailed down and onwards.





At the crossroads, a creaking signpost forced us to split with its craggy fingers pointing the way home for part of our group. We separated, showering enchantments on each other, jinxes to be guardians over our departing friends.

Another gate, another keeper, this one friendlier than the last but still encircling us with breaths of chill wind. And then we were once more in the land of lights, rushing past, crushing the air in front of us. We turned away and meandered towards the river, a gentle slow giant, reflecting the whites of our eyes and steering us towards warmth and ale. We entered the Cross and soon were settled, supping ales drawn up from the heart of the hostelry, telling tales of demons fought and wars against witches won.