Funny that a day called "all saints" always looks like a battlefied. Trampled yards, disemboweled pumpkins, and bleeding heaps of discarded gear all seem evidence of a merciless colorful horde. And what else could it be called? I found a stray piece of the hard candy we had been forced to give out after running low on hershey's minis. Obviously cast aside by some tyrannical chubby hand. I know it was just one of many casualties, but it felt personal.
the third installment of this picture. probably not the last. I have an odd obsession with exoskeletons.
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