Sunday, October 30, 2011


I spent the next day walking up and down Germantown Avenue. No more gray, cold rain. A beautiful fall day. Had some coffee, which was actually more like a hot, sweet milk shake. Bought a couple magazines. Sat in this nice litttle, cozy library they have and relaxed. My eye did itch a little, but not much. The trees are finally beginning to blush. Some go red. Some go orange. Some yellow. Some  brown. I like the way the dead ones curl up and crunch under my feet. They love being turned into mulch.

Papa felt sorry for me. Jonathon did too. But it was Sarah who slipped me the twenties. Bought some sneakers. Just a pair of retro Pumas. Don't have to be fancy. Worked on my screenplay while I was in the library. I do that sometimes. Not on the lap-top. I left that at home. Wrote down lots of ideas and a few scenes in a black and white, wide ruled, grade school composition book. Not technologically correct, but it's what I do. You want to know what the screenplay's about? It's about all this. It's about life. I change it all around. Jonathon is a Scot. Sarah's still the same. Baylah don't look like Beyonce in this one. We still got elves and cherubs, only they don't live with us. Papa never showed up. Only we got this cool guy, The Kahn. Ever see Keanu Reeves in that Buddah movie? Well, then you know what I mean.

They're having a meeting  tonight. All the vampires are getting together at the Mutter Museum. Now THAT is one interesting place. Close your eyes and picture an old tick-tock, wood floored, dim and shuttered mid-Victorian curiosity collection. Dust where there should be dust. Long, ebony framed, glass display cases. And some of the weirdest, most sickening specimens you've ever seen. If you want to visit, don't go before lunch. Go after. Look, I'm sure I told you about this place before, but we get a lot of first time readers around here, so we got to do a lot of back-tracking. You want to know which prized exhibit I like best? The 'two-headed, pickled, white baby.' No, really, they got a whole mess of them, each one labeled according to 'race.' But the white ones look like Ray Bradbury made them. One's got a big, sick, twisted ear-to-ear smile. And his connected at the hip brother's got two of his fingers jammed up his ass. Just a pair of bleached out, skinny, little bad boys, bobbing around in a big jar of pickle juice. What a way to spend the first part of eternity.

The night watchman is a friend of theirs. Not actually a familiar. They feel sorry for him. It's not that he's a half-wit. That would not be right. He's more like a quarter wit, but he does try hard. Got a prize winning Pez collection and everything. They give him money and chicken nuggets and all. He lets them duck inside for a pitstop on cold dark nights. It's where they go to talk. They could talk at home, but there's something about the atmosphere. Humans are rarely invited. I'm going because I was almost half blinded. But you know that from last night. The elves and cherubs don't take part in this stuff. Maybe Annie will. I don't know.

I showed that thin, little needle-like shard of glass to Jonathon. He held it up to the light bulb and looked at it real hard. Papa looked at it too. They made a lot of faces, but they didn't say nothing. Then Edith held out her hand. She wanted to see, so they gave it to her. Started sucking in a lot of air, but that's all she did. I asked them what they saw. I wanted to know what they thought. But Papa just told me to go to sleep.

Usually, I try to be all snug in bed by the time they come in. I don't know why. It just feels better that way. Maybe I don't want to see them after they've killed somebody. Yeah, they don't do it every night. But who knows. Only having a crystaline dart fly into your eye makes you see things. Sounds funny, but that's what it does. I've been around them more than a year. You think I know a lot? Bullshit. I don't know crap. Maybe tonight I'll get a few lessons.......

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