Doug Robbins

Night Ride

She cackled as she flew by the white moon; a child squirming in the burlap sack was flung over her shoulder. She knew it was her night, the night of Samhain, Halloween. Ghosts peeled back the thin veil separating the living and the dead. The witch’s sisters danced barefoot and naked in the forest. A pagan demon played the flute; he was serenading the wicked beauties. Music sliced through the night. Birds circled Ravens gathered, amassing quite the murder. Demons and ghosts massaged their erogenous zones. Males or females, it did not matter. Sex was sex to a bride of Satan. All witches were brides of Satan.