October in Sleepy Hollow isn’t a costume you put on. It’s home. The fog comes off the Hudson, the pumpkins glow along the trail, and the legend everyone else visits for a weekend is just… where I live. I wrote this for the village that taught me darkness doesn’t have to be something you run…

Some feelings don’t knock politely — they build until the silence breaks. This one is for the armor we polish, and the courage it takes to finally let something through.