Saturday, February 21, 2015


I was making biscuits. Everybody likes my biscuits. Them vampires take 'em to people. give 'em to 'familiars' (mortal helpers). Make a big batch, maybe seven or eight dozen. Used a do it with lard, but Sarah says people don't like that no more 'cause although it tastes good, folks say it makes 'em drop dead too much. Folks in the Pines never dropped dead too much and they all love Edith's biscuits. I am a good cook in addition to being a good witchy-woman. Once when folks complained bout all the stink bugs, I threw a hoo doo. Got rid of 'em. Marched out from all the houses in straight little lines and drowned themselves in a river. Don't make a difference what river. We got lots a rivers. Really just streams, but we don't wanna hurt they feelings.

Something's not right. I don't know what it is. Sarah says that entity 'diffused.' That's what disembodied spirits do when they lose interest in something... or somebody. They just make with a big sigh and expand in all directions till they are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. That's how they rest. But I don't think that happened. She talkin' 'bout what they want to happen. I'm talkin' 'bout what is happening. 

Billy don't seem right. Never goes out no more. Never walks around down on South Street, or Head House Square. I ask. He says it's about the cold... Cold never stopped him before. An' his eyes look all screwy, like he lookin' at a big chunk a plain air. One night, when all the others out doin' they nightly hoo haas, I see him sittin' in the den lookin' at television. He watchin' a show 'bout what astronauts gone do on Mars, but he don't pay no attention. He just sit there.... But I see a shadow pass over him... an' it not my shadow, 'cause I'm sittin' in the kitchen. Even his shirt collar move, like it bein' touched. An' I see a dirty bird in the garden. That a term we have. Can be any kind a bird, just look troublin'. This bird got one eye. Other all puckered an' shut. Plus it eatin' a baby mouse, or what used a be a baby mouse. Crow might do that, but this no crow. Little bill tappin'... pickin' off tiny, pink, stretchy bits a mouse (maybe part what got the squeak in it). I wanna shoo it away. But somethin' tell me not too.... I hear mumbles 'round the house too... little whispers and not in any manner a talk folks 'round here knows.

Never used to mind the dark. Figure what can happen in a vampire house. Sometime I sit by the front room window. Lights all out. I peek through the drapes. This block quiet. Don't get much traffic... cat maybe.... old lady with dirty face what talk to herself. ... guy with a fake ear. Fall off once. That's how I know.

But last night, while I spyin', little dog come prancin' in. Come right from the library... right through the wall. I know it real.... hear the claws clickin' ... But it did come through the wall... Little terrier lookin' thing. I could tell, even in the darkness. Street light come in through the drapes, you know. Funny, how I just didn't do nothin'.  Don't know if I could. Then it turned. It looked at me with a human face, just like a gnarled, old man, real angry and all. I said - Good evening..... But it just stick its tongue out at me and go through the wall... this time to the street... Later, when I go in the kitchen, step in all kind a little dog turds...

Keep lights on ever since.

<more next time>


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