I Shall Be Released - Bob Dylan and The Band - 1976 Vampires muse on CoronaVirus

I don't even expect Billy to post here anymore, so I had Aura and Sylvia, they're the two Mole People princesses who shelter down in the warren of never used subway tunnels, set me up with a laptop and show me.  Live in a dark world of flickering shadows. Got lots a cans of sterno. They're 'daddy's' the Mole king... Knows how to filtch electricity from forgotten power lines. They get water from dripping pipes in old, never peed in public toilets. Well, I guess some of the Mole People pee in them. Don't know how we get an 
internet connection down this low, but we do. Mole Folk got their ways.


This is Jonathon speaking. I'm the vampire. Got two names Tomas de Macabea and Jonathon ben Macabi. It's an old medieval Spanish-Sephardic thing. Some a you know me... almost one thousand years on Earth... Eighteen year old body.. fine black leather bootkins... Yeah, yeah, yeah fine. Enough with the descriptive crap. Been gliding around up on the streets. Not many people out. Mortals got a real Zombie Apocolypse going on. Diners empty. Movie houses empty. Sometimes people run out to a bodega for like a bag of chips, or a bottle of soda... used to fill take-out trays from the salad bar, but nobody touches that anymore. Them tongs got 'cooties.'


I like when the streets were alive at night. People coming out of clubs. Old guys drinking coffee in all-night Dunkin Donuts. Folks walking dogs. Homeless guys sharing midget Hebrew National salamis. Cabbies talking outside hotels. Flamenco dancers... Well, once in a while there's a flamenco dancer. I like when the Killer Klowns From Outer Space are out. Not the real Killer Klowns. This is like a Face Book Group, but sometimes they dress up real good and go marching around. I think one of them's the principal of a school, or something. The book shop is still there. Sarah still has her store. She doesn't run it, just owns it. Philadelphia After Dark is a very special place... like something out of the nineteenth century. Old worn hardwood floor. Narrow, aisles... shelves stuffed with hard to find volumes.... comfy wing chairs here and there... few pin up lamps... tick tock clocks on the wall... old fashioned cash register... Yeah, I go on.. but I really like that place... Where I first saw Sarah through those mullioned windows... (sighs). Shop still gets a few people, even now. All-night book shop gets all types. Never crowded in there. Just maybe like two browsers. One regular comes in all the time. Speaks Catalan. Says he's a 'warlock.' Always has a wrapped Pop Tart in his shirt pocket, so I don't know.


Now everyone's afraid of that virus. They read about Italy and how bad it is over there. Not enough resporators. Physicians playing God. Who breathes. Who doesn't. Can you imagine how that will play out here, considering how divided they all are? The mortals, I mean... So much hate.... Who knows? Perhaps this misfortune will unite them the way aggresive space aliens always do in the movies? A silver lining so to speak. This place can use a few silver linings. They claim Israelis and Palestinians are working together to contain this thing. Maybe it's a sign?


Now please forgive me. Aura, Sylvia and I have plans to share a sponge bath in the candlelit remnants of an old 'ladies room.' Odd how after all these years the hot water still works. Magic? Who cares? It's like that with night-folk. Will my Sarah mind?... No... vampirinos and vampirinas are not like that... We go with the flow... and after it all runs out still come back together.


With that, the already undressed, doe eyed Sylvia takes his hand and leads him into the adjacent candlelit chamber...


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