Halloween ball

Nothing’s sacred on Halloween, or, rather, anything sacred is bound to be desecrated. Pay attention, if you can identify the dancers, to see who thinks death and wickedness are fun. Here’s the slave master, with his leather whip. Here—his minions swinging leather tails. Werewolves, witches, sinners pierced with arrows, priests with rotting nostrils and bleeding gums. The undertaker, with his tall top hat, joins the dance. A dead man’s arm dangles from his pocket. His hands are dripping with blood but lunatic ghouls lustily lick it clean. Sir Beelzebub dances with skeletons. Skeletons beat the hanged man’s horse. They pretend a puppet master pulls their strings so they don’t have to feel responsible.