Truth exists, only falsehood has to be invented.
There it is, Norman Rockwell on a living canvas. The whole mystical scenario falls flat before it begins, the magic disappears under chaos and the tranquility that is called the American Idyll seems to rot quicker than the windowsill pumpkin. The Jack O'Lantern grin becomes sardonic. The neat and pristine-clean confines of Belle Haven, the richest corner of town, had never anticipated murder. Its citizens became frightened and perplexed.