Then This Is My Human Costume I’m Really A Potato Shirt they stopped. My footsteps were suddenly the only sounds in the dark garden. I pictured some wild animal crouched among the rows of corn, hiding, listening to my approach, its jaws dripping, its eyes hot with hunger. I stopped. Listened.

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The scavengers This Is My Human Costume I’m Really A Potato Shirt was taking over; even in broad daylight, nobody felt safe. At night… well, let’s just say that the night had become… inhospitable. The regular citizens were getting jumpy. They were scared, and they counted on me for protection.

This used to be a This Is My Human Costume I’m Really A Potato Shirt nice neighborhood: quiet, peaceful. There was no crime, really, except for the usual penny-ante theft by the kind of scavengers that haunt pretty much every neighborhood. Ever since the old man died, early in the summer, the place had gone downhill fast.