Thursday, December 23, 2010
The Book of All Things New
I want to tell you more about Annie. I was playing the role of Christmas Angel to some old people in a home (and quite enjoyed it), but this is important. The evil. little grains in her body are spontaneously generating into tiny, almost microscopic worms. They are in her saliva and also in the saliva (and bodies) of other mortals as well. wilkravitz has them and so does anybody else she spit on or sneezed on or coughed on. Spitting in someone else's food or drink counts too. She is one regular Typhoid Annie. Now if the contagion gets bad, if it gets life threatening or soul threatening, the only way (I know of) to combat it is with another kiss... a vampire's kiss. But that would mean the number of life eaters in Philadelphia would increase to dangerous levels. That's no good. That's when more or less 'nobel' vampires go over to the shadow world and develope into what they call 'noxious' specimens. True, some of the noxious ones are born that way, but that's another story. Can you imagine two or three dozen hungry vampires slurpping up folks left and right? It would be 'hells-a-poppin'' all up and down Broad Street. Contracrors would go around selling folks 'vampire shelters.' The television news ladies would give the nightly vampire report. Preachers would commence to speechifying. The 'amens' would fly. And before you could say Count Chocula, they'd be burning folks on Market Street. . The real vampires would probably sublimate out of town to try their luck on the road. The burnt up ones would likely be poor, pathetic goth kids or anybody else with a case of the snake eye. We (well, the vampires and their friends, actually) must get controll of this situation before it spreads. And we also have to worry about putting together some sort of Christmas for the elves and cherubs. They have seen much sadness in their distorted lives. They deserve it. So far all we have are a few cartons of Britta water filtration pitchers, a mess of hyjacked tazor guns (don't ask) and a few dozen pairs of Payless high heeled shoes. Albion was doing the 'shopping' and you know how senseless that 'boy' can be. Sarah is going to run out and do a T+T (Target + Toys R Us) marathon later on. She'll get it right. A few of the Piney's will help carry the packages. Oh, I just floated into this information. Baylah did a lot to spread around that 'collective good' currently observed in most parts of this city. She had a spirit deam a few nights before all that Eclipse/Solstice hoo-haa. It was her mother. She told her to swim through the hearts of humanity, to spread her loving essence among them. So Baylah walked all alone through that pre-Solstice night. All through Center City. All through the many marble-stepped, row house neighborhoods. She came to the great, vast holding pools of the reservoir. She stripped in the darkness and sublimated through an electric, security fence. The watchful computer did notice an ever so slight irregularity in the circuitry. And it dickered in its silicon heart with whether or not to sound the alarm. But then it decided not to. For even artificial intelligences hate to be thought insane. So Baylah got in. She stood on the cold, frost bitten, winter-dead grass and looked out over the glassy surface of the frigid, starlit pool. Then she used her nails to rake her skin. And when the blood began to bead up and flow, she dove in, swimming with great, sweeping strokes. Never once breaking the surface, leaving 'contrails' of diluted blood in her wake. Her enchanted molecules danced out, a horde of infinitely tiny, tadpoles. She was one with the water. And one with any human who would eventually drink it. Less than a day or two later, almost half the people in the city (not to mention temporary sojourners---I think they call them commuters) had been effected. Our world became a better place. And the mother of Baylah smiled.