Friday, August 24, 2012

A NIGHT BEST SPENT AT HOME... the vampires hear things

No one left the house. They gathered in the kitchen, filling the late nineteenth century, reproduction windsor chairs, which were genuine antiques in and of themselves. Edith lit a few more aroma candles. Light lemon ones, I think. Something was wrong with the air conditioning, so she figured the fresh scent would be better. 

They could still hear the howling. Conrad thought someone was guiding the dogs, just as he used to do. They looked to Papa, but he just sat there staring at the mysterious painting. I told wanna see it? Go to @Twit__Trending on TWITTER. It's her background. 

wilkravitz filled his regular place at the little desk. That's where the computer was. It's a laptop, but they keep it there. He was browsing through the incandescent sites. Discount trips to the Cayman Islands..... talking dogs (raspy whispers, actually) from Saskatchewan. Edith thumbed through the book...the one Tomas and Sarah found at the cafe. She said - See if he's on there......... Who? - said wil...... The guy who writes this, Andrew Harding his name is....... Why? - said wil........ 'Cause I like it. It's sexy....... Edith blushed a little bit, but nobody paid attention. Annie claimed she smelled Johnny Jump Up..... Papa looked up. Maybe he was going to say something, but he didn't. 

wilkravitz said - Here he is. @AndrewHarding4 at Wow, he's got a whole lot of them. Books, I mean. What are you gonna do, order 'em?............ So what if I do!? - barked the Piney woman. I'm done with that Fifty Grey shit. This is better. They got cops and vampires. Well, like almost vampires. I ain't never heared stuff like this before....... What? - said Annie..... But nobody answered her...... Sarah mouthed - Get them for her. So wilkravitz tapped a few keys and did. 

Tomas softly played his guitar, an old, Spanish, handmade heirloom from Granada. Sarah took out her crocheting. Conrad read his Bible. You know, most vampires remain steadfast in their beliefs. It's easy to reconcile this. 'Not the Shepherd, but the sheepdog'.... You've heard them say that..... 'Cull the wicked. Preserve the worthy'.... You've heard them say that too. Anything can be justified. 

A vampire family at home. Papa sipped a bit of Scotch. He roused himself to do that. Tomas stuck to a light grappa. Did they give any to Annie? A little bit. Some weak homemade wine stuff Edith brings in from The Pines. She drinks it from a special, retro Flintstone's jelly glass. You know how she likes the Flintstones.

Then they heard the running on the roof..... sharp, hard steps, like from Cuban heels, or old fashioned Gillette boots from long ago. Annie whispered - Shhhh... smell him?

Johnny Jump Up, the mid-Victorian, cadaverous, hungry ghoul dragged his half dead dinner over the tar paper roof tops. They heard the muffled moans, as he scrapped her over the low, tiled barriers between the houses.

Tomas put down the guitar. Sarah switched off the lights, as they silently crept up through the venerable domicile to listen by the skylight. Annie whispered - I wonder what he does with the toes?...... You know how she dotes on the toes.

And the life-eaters stayed in that night, listening to a phantom crack through bones. 

Occasionally there'd be a howl, but mostly it was quiet. So they froze there in the bathroom, faces bathed in moonbeams streaming in through the milky, skylight glass.

But Papa remained downstairs, whispering to something in the dark. Perhaps it was a person in that painting?

And the only light came from the laptop, a bright and cheerful blogazine, , featuring all the latest on Spanish culture the world over. The gazpacho sure looked nice. So did the trip to Baja, though no one living looked upon  the page.....


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