Fall is the best. I won’t hear any arguments otherwise. Part of that is because of a tradition, which I share with many readers, of reading something spooky in October. The falling leaves, the blowing winds, the crispy air that chills your nose and fingers . . . it’s perfect for reading something that sends chills down your spine too. This year I took on a trifecta of tales: one classic, one modern masterpiece, and one short story. (For more short stories, check out the piece I wrote last year: