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The death of the scared, little cattle-boy seeped into the ether. They all felt it. Some of the night-folk are truly telepathic. They pick it up immediately. Others gradually inhale tiny particles of the event, like snakes tasting the atmosphere. Those humans in attendance exhibit a wide range of abilities. Some knew and were afraid, but most just felt unsure.
Now, 'King' Rafe dotes on mortals. He values them. They entertain him, like neon tetras in an aquarium. No, more like lobsters in a tank at some nautical themed seafood restaurant. So he wants them to be happy. Besides, invited guests are never on the menu. Not around here. And in an effort to preserve the equanimity of the event, gifts were dispensed. A few got top of the line Jaguars. Others twelve month gift certificates with the courtesan or gigolo of their choice. They have catalogs for these things, rather like luxury real estate publications, in Europe, don't you know? Two or three received certified checks for five million dollars. And a tiny bit later, the word 'round the palace was 'what little, cattle-boy?'
But Tomas went down to the scene of his passing and recited the service for the dead. Then he wiped up some of the human grease smeared on the stone floor (the functionaries always miss something) , folded the cloth and buried it out beyond the walls, 'neath an old oak tree. Did he hear the quiet wails of the rest of them? Of course he did. But he could not see them. And he did not look, though he prayed their passing would be easy.
There were other reverent vampirinos and vampirinas there. Not all lose their faith. Some cling to it even more. He saw a thin woman from Hungary and another couple from Brazil. Were there others? Probably, but those three stood out. Sarah noticed too. Baylah feigned indifference. Not because she didn't care, but because she did. Perhaps they'd speak tomorrow evening?
So Tomas and Sarah danced another Stompanada and drank some cherry vodka. Annie and Larry stole a bit of human food from off the buffet. She liked the canolis, even though she barfed them up soon after. Larry downed some gravlax, but he scrunched his nose and spit up on the rug. One of the au natural, tongueless functionaries impatiently waved him off, before kneeling down to scrub the mess away. If you want to know, they use dog piss cleaner. Curious vampires often try the fare. And a much esteemed human guest (possessed of a line of home care products) provides it by the case.
Tomorrow night they break up into 'tables.' Mixed groups of night-folk and mortals meet to discuss various world problems and conundrums. These get togethers are spread throughout the house. And considering there are more than twelve dozen rooms, disturbances will be few. The head of each party accepted an envelope upon exiting the first night's dance. Tomas passed it to Baylah, since she was most curious...... 'The Hunt Room,' she said. And so the hunt room it would be. Sixteen hours hence, after an 'amazing' (and hopefully entertaining) display of 'King' Rafe's miraculous prowess (a second night tradition) they'd meet their tablemates and begin to talk.....
As they returned to their rooms, the headless harpist still played...Claire de Lune, I believe..
Her repertoire had no end....
I wonder how she heard it?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
thank you for these precious heartbeats of your time....please nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD. just tweet this ~~> I nominate #BLOGGER @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD based on his narratives and stories......
Now, 'King' Rafe dotes on mortals. He values them. They entertain him, like neon tetras in an aquarium. No, more like lobsters in a tank at some nautical themed seafood restaurant. So he wants them to be happy. Besides, invited guests are never on the menu. Not around here. And in an effort to preserve the equanimity of the event, gifts were dispensed. A few got top of the line Jaguars. Others twelve month gift certificates with the courtesan or gigolo of their choice. They have catalogs for these things, rather like luxury real estate publications, in Europe, don't you know? Two or three received certified checks for five million dollars. And a tiny bit later, the word 'round the palace was 'what little, cattle-boy?'
But Tomas went down to the scene of his passing and recited the service for the dead. Then he wiped up some of the human grease smeared on the stone floor (the functionaries always miss something) , folded the cloth and buried it out beyond the walls, 'neath an old oak tree. Did he hear the quiet wails of the rest of them? Of course he did. But he could not see them. And he did not look, though he prayed their passing would be easy.
There were other reverent vampirinos and vampirinas there. Not all lose their faith. Some cling to it even more. He saw a thin woman from Hungary and another couple from Brazil. Were there others? Probably, but those three stood out. Sarah noticed too. Baylah feigned indifference. Not because she didn't care, but because she did. Perhaps they'd speak tomorrow evening?
So Tomas and Sarah danced another Stompanada and drank some cherry vodka. Annie and Larry stole a bit of human food from off the buffet. She liked the canolis, even though she barfed them up soon after. Larry downed some gravlax, but he scrunched his nose and spit up on the rug. One of the au natural, tongueless functionaries impatiently waved him off, before kneeling down to scrub the mess away. If you want to know, they use dog piss cleaner. Curious vampires often try the fare. And a much esteemed human guest (possessed of a line of home care products) provides it by the case.
Tomorrow night they break up into 'tables.' Mixed groups of night-folk and mortals meet to discuss various world problems and conundrums. These get togethers are spread throughout the house. And considering there are more than twelve dozen rooms, disturbances will be few. The head of each party accepted an envelope upon exiting the first night's dance. Tomas passed it to Baylah, since she was most curious...... 'The Hunt Room,' she said. And so the hunt room it would be. Sixteen hours hence, after an 'amazing' (and hopefully entertaining) display of 'King' Rafe's miraculous prowess (a second night tradition) they'd meet their tablemates and begin to talk.....
As they returned to their rooms, the headless harpist still played...Claire de Lune, I believe..
Her repertoire had no end....
I wonder how she heard it?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
thank you for these precious heartbeats of your time....please nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD. just tweet this ~~> I nominate #BLOGGER @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD based on his narratives and stories......
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