Tuesday, November 9, 2010

The Book of Sarah

I think my favorite late night talk show is Jimmy Fallon. I like the way they dress him. There must be a vampire on his staff somewhere. The whole production just has that look. It has that effortless sincere wit. That is how it is when we all sit and talk. Of course we have our concerns, our problems, but existence still goes on. Listen to me. It has not been that long and I'm already beginning to sound like a veteran. At least they named me right. Sarah is a good name for a vampire. It has a poetic pull to it. Much better than Debbie or Tina. I'm glad I don't have one of those names. Maybe we're growing complacent. There has not been any Shaky Hand Man business for a while. The streets appear to be safe again. I've become somewhat friendly with one of the goth girls. Her name is Morticia. Yes, Morticia. Her grandmother was a fan of The Addams' Family back in the nineteen sixties. And her mother spends too much money on Silvia Browne books. She says what she really wants to be is a background singer for Pink. That and a vampire. She tried to major in it at the community college back around her way. But they refered her to the student health center and recommended she consult a therapist. The therapist told her to become a registered nurse. At least she would get the opportunity to play around with blood. She doesn't know I'm a true life-eater. To her I'm just an astute, spiritual, worldly type and the fact that I treat her to coffee, sandwiches and hamburgers doesn't hurt either. She was cold. So I took her into H+M, or H+W, or some place like that and bought her some winter clothes (all black and gray of course). I think she really appreciated it. A few more 'genuine' vampire videos showed up on the internet. None of us were in them. Probably fakes made by some inventive film student. Bob is scared though. He's afraid to go out on the street, because the neo nazi types might try to do something. What could they do? - I tell him. You're a vampire. - I say. But he says they could always do something low tech like douse him in gasoline and light a match. If the fire 'takes' and burns strong enough, he may have a point. Still, you can't recognize him in that recording. His face is all distorted. He's so terribly angry it does not even look like him. I don't know. Maybe it's just his guilt. Not about killing Barbra. But about how he lived and what he did in the past. I like the gifts  Tomas brought me. I'm learning to appreciate quality. The Pow Wow Woman says that maybe we should think about leaving our refuge under the synagogue and find a real place again. She and Baylah are still going strong in their little nest over the piano bar. Bob sleeps all over the place, sometimes he goes back down to the mole people. They don't really care what he is or what he was, just so long as he keeps coming forth with the blood gifts. I do not understand it. Why do they want to live so long? Their lives are not so great. Yet who am I to judge? Some tortoise live to see onne hundred and fifty years. A whale was found with a two hundred year old bullet imbedded in its hide. Methuzalah lived nine hundred years. And that was back before the bronze age. Things couldn't have been so interesting back then. Morticia says she'll help us find Annie. She says it's the least she could do since I got her the winter clothes and all.Two of her friends are also willing to help. I don't know. How could she not spot me as a vampire? Maybe she does. Maybe she's just playing me. I can't get a good read on her. The Pow Wow Woman wants me to stay away from all those goth kids. She says they're crazy. Yeah... crazy. Then what are we? When I culled my last victim, I gouged one of his eyes out at the last minute. I suppose I just wanted him to suffer. Oooh! The fire-jugglers are out on Head House Square again. I simply adore them. Listen. Can you hear the drums? Forgive me as I dash outside to watch. Here, tip the waitress for me. Who knows? Tonight I may just join them in their dance.

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