Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Jonathon known as Tomas Talks ... 3/20/13

I am all alone. Some of the others are in the house, but I sit in my chamber by myself. And I think. And I listen. And I write. Tea For The Tillerman, that's what I listen to. I'm being followed by a moon shadow.. (sigh). I love that song. You can't imagine what it's like for someone like me to be here, in your time, I mean.  Willow bark, the basic ingredient for aspirin, was witch craft in my day. And eye glasses, save for isolated regions of Cathay and the as yet uncontacted Toltec realms, were nonexistent. 

Though my immediate world was somewhat better. We had fountains and marble floors. Tiny copper conduits piped cool water behind fine, ceramic tiled walls to lessen the oppressive heat of Al Andaluz. And mighty dhows brought us the rarest powders and nostrums from Hind (India) and Nippon (Japan) plus the aforementioned Cathay. 

It has been said that we lived at a level comparable to  well placed Britons, just prior to the advent of steam power. Aside from some cultural differences, Jane Austen and Victor Hugo would have been right at home. .... And I long for that place more and more each day. I think about the villa out beyond the wadi (stream/river) in the hills. We had a lute player, officially a slave, but very cultured and highly esteemed. His name was Namib. I think he was a Kurd. His music mixed with dinner and livened many celebrations.  I still recall the melodies. 

Maybe if I died, they'd take me there, or at least to a heavenly simulation. But I am a vampire. Death eludes me. And who knows if past sins bar me from that portal? Perhaps I am meant to repent? Perhaps I am meant to act on the 'visitation' I had so many years ago? To make it manifest and take it to mankind?..... I'm afraid of the sun. So I won't do that.... 

Little steps. I will take little steps. I'll do what I have always done. I'll visit the sick and make them well. I'll give them the vials and share the blood. When they ask for a name. I will not lie. I will not play the part of a mute angel. They will hear and they will know. I am Jonathon... and I am a life-eater...

It's funny. We say 'vampire,' but most hate that term. It's lurid and coarse and dirty. Fit for penny dreadfuls and bright, garish Hammer films.... 'Vampire,'..... I am not that. 

Perhaps I will do as Marianne did and talk to them in groups. She did it to raise money for charity. Rich, Center City matrons and their carefully groomed mute husbands spent ten thousand dollars a piece to sit in townhouse-manor, neo-Sister Parrish splendor  and hear her 'elferina's' tale. ... And they liked it too, especially when Roland (or was it Albion?) scampered 'cross the ceiling. The wine and tapas were just an added bonus...

I'll preach to them. I'll teach. And maybe, considering my miraculous condition, they'll listen. I wonder if Marianne still has the subscription list. At least those people will be familiar with our form. At least they won't scream and run away. Makes it so hard for life-eaters to meet new people, especially mortals, I mean...

Edith's watching an old classic Jenette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy movie on cable. I can hear the singing. Maybe I'll go in and join her. 

She loves those sentimental things and so do I.

thank you. any strange terms we use are all real and can be easily Googled for clarification. for more of our world, please hit PIXILATED UNIVERSE ...and wander 'round. your COMMENTS & LINKS are very important to us. please visit often.

No comments: