He still stood out.

Even amongst all the people dressed up as scary creatures - as wizards and waves and hurricanes and demons. He wasn't emulating a character I knew. He was wearing a tall wicker-weaved goose on his head, attached with string to a small wicker basket like a hat on his head. His head was covered by a t-shirt not pulled all the way down, with tiny slits for eyes and a mouth. I never saw his eyes. He was wearing a stripey long sleeved shirt and dirty orange pants. He was holding the ends of his stripey sleeves so his hands were invisible. It disturbed me the most that I couldn't see his hands.
I was frightened of him.
And he walked with me the whole way.