There is something tangible about memories, especially the ones that last forever, leaving stains in your brain. If I thought to erase a Halloween memory that has haunted me for life, by writing about it last year, I was wrong. Thinking I could wash out those stains, wrong. Memories of a glistening, iridescent hunk of corned beef, with yellow balls of mustard seed embedded in it, the centre piece of every single Halloween dinner I can remember. Briny, stringy, staining my Halloween memory forever. We were never allowed to leave and go trick or treating until we ate all of our cold, congealing corn beef. And I was always sure that I would be the last kid on the block to get out there and run free. Darting in the shadows, scaring the heck out of each other, and ourselves. If I thought that writing about those memories would banish them forever, I was wrong. Halloween still means corned beef, and cold, hard, mashed potatoes to me. Along with the smell of burnt pumpkin lids from a untrimmed candle. Crisp, windy nights, and flashlights, greasy makeup, and the smell of those hard plastic masks, with the elastic that I can still feel digging into my skin. The smooth touch of worn out cotton pillow cases, dragging through the grass on front lawns waiting to be filled with candy. They may be stains in my memory, but they are indelible, and should be cherished. To me, they mean Halloween, and those memories can't be made any more. Have a spooky, and safe Halloween.