Friday, December 6, 2013


The townhouse is really quite a comfortable refuge. It's not overly imposing from the street (more like an old lane, or mews), just wide enough to let in adequate light. But seeing as most residents are nocturnal, that's not such a big deal. In case you're not familiar with classical Philadelphia residential architecture, I'll describe it. Each floor had four primary rooms. Two face front and two face back. There are smaller spaces, storage rooms, studies and the like, bathrooms, 'safe' rooms and secret rooms. The third floor, a rather charming arrangement of tiny dormered cubicles with light-tight shutters and cozy sleeping dens. The vampires actually prefer sleeping up under the roof. It's quieter and dryer. Should they feel threatened, retreat to the cellar is possible. The walls are stone, painted white. The floor slate covered. There's a deep, raw earth crypt under a heavy, granite slab, filled with perhaps sixteen inches of fragrant rose petals. Tomas and Sarah occasionally sleep down there. Some type of basic simple machinery moves the slab. This lowest level is a second cellar. What we would call a 'sub-basement.' The ghost of the little polio victim sometimes frequents the place, but not always. Sarah leaves little toys for him. The first cellar, finished in a similar manner, has a pantry and a little sitting room, plus what used to be staff housing in the old days. The first cellar has windows. The second cellar does not. And the entrance to the deepest level is via a ladder accessed through a trapdoor in the floor of an ordinary closet. I've never listed them, but I think counting greater and lesser spaces there are approximately twenty two or twenty four rooms in all. Stroll through Society Hill and other nearby neighborhoods. You'll see others like it. The difference being this one fronts a narrow, secluded lane. Oh, and a man from Robertson's comes down once every seven to ten days to change the rose petals. Does he know who lives here? What do you think? The kitchen opens up to a nice cozy garden in the back, but you're already familiar with that.

Now let me go on. Tomas watched television tonight. He likes Shark Tank. Always roots for the little guys. Says if he wasn't so moral he'd slip into Los Angeles and slurp the life out of those inhuman, self-serving bastards. And it's a wonder some local vampire with just a hint of social justice hasn't already done the same thing. Tonight he liked the hat people... two young men possessed of a business that makes dashing hoods and head coverings meant to imitate shamanistic disguises used in ancient, pre-hunt rituals. At least that's how they look to me. Though I must say they are very flattering in a primitive, Cro Magnon sort of way.... fluffy, (thankfully) faux fur, handsome, erect ears and in some cases, leonine paws meant to sereve as mittens. He contacted them earlier via Twitter, but they didn't know who or what he was. Here, I'll give you a clickable link~> ... I hope it works.

Baylah wants to go to the funeral, President Mandela's, I mean. Not just because she's African, for her people were Ashanti and Tuareg and in no way related to the various kingdoms and feudal holdings of the south. But she just thinks the occasion is important enough to warrant a vampire presence. Tomas said - Don't you think some local night-folk will be there? And besides, official observances will be diurnal , thus baring your presence altogether..... Baylah said - I know that. But as a daughter of Timbuctu and a princess of Old Mali, I belong there. One royal to another. I want to pay my respects. And if I must wait out the sun time in some sheltered place, so be it. His spirit will still be thereabout and he will sense my presence. 

Edith could see she was worked up about this. Perhaps because she was once a slave, while the great departed soul was both the Moses and Joshua of his people. So she lit some green apple candles to calm things. 

Tomas said - I'll have my travel man ( a familiar) arrange it all.... Baylah said - You don't have to do that. I have familiars of my own.... Then she curled up in the chair and silently watched the fire.... a princess in repose.

I myself am yet another unidentified disembodied spirit and I'd like to keep it that way. Let the others share their names. Such displays are not for me. Good night, for I must leave...


link~>OVER 1,350 EPISODES ...
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