After a gentle shower of the spirit, the serpent immediately slithers in, with vile, and black disdain. The little town is empty on this Sunday night. A neon sign blinks "open", which is clearly not the case. The familiar and the new make this odd concoction of deja vu... And the unseasonal weather still persists. Confused, I sit on this temporary chair. All my ghosts are still all here... Listening to your heart in the autumn night, can sometimes clam all your fears...