you are sitting at a stop sign somewhere in your home town. it is midnight. you have been sitting there for some small time now. there is a procession of children, colorfully masked, that is slowly streaming across the street. the children stare into the car at you, not making a sound. some of the children are holding balloons, and these are eerily lit by your headlights. the children are in perfect unison. each walks in step with the others. one. after another. after another. you have no idea where the children are going. it is midnight, you think, where the hell are they coming from? and why are there so many? they continue to come. the blank expressionless masks unnerve you the most. the children stare into you from behind black eyes. you feel uneasy. you cannot move. almost as if you are entranced by them. you are starting to get chills from watching these children. you don't know if that should be. but it is. you feel there is something not right about the whole situation. what do they mean? and where the hell are they coming from? you ask yourself these questions as your unease begins to steadily increase, as the children cross the street, staring at you with their blank mask faces. there is most assuredly something that is not right.