RAT on the New York subway! <~~ there's a horror story .. 4/10/14

Imagine if the train made a sudden stop and the rat had friends and people fell on top of each other and it was real hot and half a them stunk to high heaven.... And the doors wouldn't open and somebody's false teeth flew out and got kicked down the aisle and the rat had a knife and all the tourists started peeing themselves......



Everyday life.... Horror we can laugh at.



Once I was eating in a fairly uncontaminated all-you-can-eat Chinese style buffet.... nice sunny day..... sloppy, finger suckers and serial belchers ain't there yet... quiet lunch crowd... and a little mouse (so manic it looked battery powered) starts running loop-the-loops all  over the place... Everyone saw, but no one panicked... even a booth full of pant-suited old ladies kept tittering as it raced around their feet... One even said- I'm afraid to move my foot, 'cause I don't want to hurt him.... People giggled and nodded.... Some said - What can you do? They hide in people's bras. They sneak in under wigs.... and that was it.... No one got huffy. No one got a discount. Trans fat icing-ed cakes for everyone!



Thing is, when you see a mouse, especially in daylight, you can bet it's the sick one that got kicked outta the nest. And they got lots a roommates .



Now I just saw that video a few minutes ago myself. Gonna go 'google' - will verminous rodents crawl on sleeping people?.... 'Cause they hide in tightie-whities too.



Imagine if that rat thing happened in an elevator. Picture the scene when the doors finally open ....



A movie in there somewhere.



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and when we said 'mostly uncontaminated Chinese style all-you-can-eat buffets' we meant 'mostly uncontaminated' by the patrons, not the hard working staff and owners.

Season of First Faith... La Prima Vera ... Elferina (a pubescent vampire) Talks... 4/9/14

Sometimes I float. I ascend up into the midnight sky and hang there. No one sees. Dark clothes hide everything. And I think as the wind takes me where she will. I turn away from Earth, facing the infinite. Many elferinas and elferinos can't do that. Too unnerving. Too disorienting. Nothing but blackness and the stars.... sensory deprivation for night-folk. Then I hear a plane and it's over. I remember a simple world... a place without the wonders mortals fabricate today.  Night was an altogether different place. The darkness was complete. Some went out with lanterns, but others did not. There's nothing like that today, at least in the rich world.

Celeste.... They call me Celeste..... 'heavenly'...'divine'... You've seen me in the background, while others, such as Marianne, or Roland claim the stage. I have no illusions. I just survive. My nativity, both mortal and immortal was not unique... for night-folk, I mean. Nothing so dramatic as Marianne. No, not like that. Do you know, her story, if I understand this correctly, comprises one of the most visited parts of this record? ... Marianne In Britches by Billy Kravitz... They 'google' it. They scroll back and forth, til they see the whole thing. Someone with the right bed-friends in California wants to make a film of it. She says she doesn't care, Marianne, I mean but I see how she flips her hair and angles her jaw toward the glass.  She is vain. So was Jonathon. Maybe that's not a bad thing. Perhaps I'm too quiet?

We leave the house at dusk and come back with first light. We avoid Sarah... not because we're cold, or uncaring, but because we're guilty and don't know what to say. Peter was a special thing to us.... the first new elferino upon these shores in more than two hundred and fifty years. So we took to him... beguiled by an evil 'Peter Pan.' And look what happened. 

It's so quiet now. I want to talk with Sarah. I do. But I don't know what to say. Did you think immortality brings wisdom? I suppose it has the potential for that. But mostly it just brings time.

I feel the air. I feel the warmth. I feel the soil. La Prima Vera begins... the Season of First Faith... all things new... for that's what the words really mean. Well, we have no choice. We must all be new things too. I browsed through an all-night food market two hours ago. Sometimes I buy things if I like the way they smell, or the way they look, or the color. They had apples, 'Jonathon' apples.... small and sweet, tangy too. I could tell. So I bought some. Most I gave to a man selling papers and magazines from a little booth near a hotel. They used to have a lot of them, but there's still a few. At first he didn't want them. He said - Ain't no razor blade shoved inside, is there?... I said - No. No razor blades. .... He knew I wasn't lying.... Then he took one from the white, plastic bag and rinsed it with a squirt from his water bottle. Cut it in half with a pen knife too. I suppose that was to make sure. I hope the pen knife was clean. I watched, as he crunched into it. Nothing sounds like a fresh, crisp apple. Even night-folk... especially night-folk, appreciate that.  He thanked me with a mouth full of sweet-tart fruit, as I left. 

Later, back at the townhouse, I put two in the refrigerator. One for Edith and one for Billy. The third one, the last one, I butchered for the seeds. Then I found a little, clay pot out back in the kitchen garden (actually a glorified patio) put some dirt in from one of the flower beds, poked in two seeds and moistened it in the sink. A Jonathon apple tree. I will grow one. Months from now, when it gets cold again, I'll take the pot inside. Maybe after two, or three years I'll plant it in the ground. Hopefully it won't get too big. Tomorrow night I'll ask Billy to look it up. I'm sure if we prune it right it won't.

A Jonathon apple tree. He would like that.

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THE VAMPIRINA, SARAH, WALKS THE CITY STREETS ALONE... 4/8/14

Once upon a time, she had a cozy, little book shop on a narrow, cobbled street. Once upon a time she was mortal. But then she assumed 'the burden' and was no longer mortal. Things changed. She gave up the shop and hid from the sun. Though at least she had Jonathon, her vampirino consort. But he is dead now and Sarah is alone. 

The others look at her. Edith and Leo and Billy and Baylah. The elferinos and elferinas stare too. They say - Are you Alright? Would you like some tea? ... And Sarah says 'yes' or 'no' or 'thank you.' Sometimes she just smiles. Not a real smile. Not a happy smile. Just a thing she does with her face. 

Doctor Franklin drops in. He brought Luna once. Edith bought new linens for Sarah's sleeping chamber. Like an ivory color. They always get ivory. Edith makes sure the whole townhouse is spotless. Not that Sarah would say anything, buy you know. Tonight she went out for the first time. Leo said he'd go with her. In case you're new, he's a vampire too. Edith isn't. And I'm not. I'm Billy. I run this blog thing for them. Listen to me. I still say 'them.' Actually I started about three and a half years ago, right before Sarah came. Look, you want to know how it is? We KNOW he's not gone. Not really. Because if paranormal, or spiritual 'beings' like them can exist, how can we NOT believe in something more?

She told Leo it was alright and she wanted to go alone. So he let her. Edith heard her cry as she got dressed. What? You think vampires are so different? You think they're not human? What are they shaped like, turtles? They're humans. We're humans. We're mortals. They're not. Everybody's different.

I don't think she's gonna 'cull' anyone tonight. Not her time of month. But she'll walk down the streets, through the financial district, down The Avenue of The Arts... all bundled up against the damp and the chill. Not like she's gonna catch a virus or anything, but cold is cold. Nobody wants to be miserable. 

Maybe she'll go to Baylah's place? Maybe she'll go to the piano bar. They're supposed to close by 2AM. No, they have to stop selling liquor by 2AM. But coffee's alright. Sometimes they serve scrambled eggs and toasted muffins. They got a kitchen, a small one for like gourmet chili and these fancy, little sandwiches. I love that place. Guy does the whole 'American Song Book.' Woman he alternates with does Broadway, jazz and all..... I bet Sarah and Baylah get a lot closer. Not that they weren't before. But with Jonathon being gone and all. 

Some parts of town get real quiet late at night. She might be the only one coming down the street. But you won't hear her. Night-folk are quiet. And if she has a pair of sneakers on, forget it. Every so often a homeless guy might look up from a steam vent, or a recessed doorway, but they won't do anything. Mortals don't bother vampires. They just don't. Doctor Franklin says there must be a physical explanation. Says it must be a pheromone , or some kind of scent they give off. But he's a scientist and you know how they are.

Bet she goes into a hospital and cures sick people. Finds the worst ones. Sneaks into their rooms. I guess it's like a kind of hypnosis. They can cloud people's sight. No one stops her. She goes to the bed, bites her lip and lets a drop or two of vampire blood fall into an old, open, wheezing, snoring mouth. Next day 'mom-mom' is all better, though sometimes daddy's got chest pains. Some nights she cures babies. Then it's always alright. Sarah likes the dim, blue night lights and the quiet hallways...... Once she cured a sick Lhasa Apso at an animal shelter. Wasn't breathing. Just laying on the table. No one in the room. Dribbled in a drop or two and left. Vet's assistant comes in, sees doggie jumpin' around and playing. Almost has a stroke. Look, how was Sarah supposed to know they just 'put it to sleep' ten minutes earlier 'cause an irate boyfriend pumped a bullet in its head. Woman took it back though. Now she got the only Lhasa Apso with a sixty five year life span. Gonna be a really crapped up lawn at that house.

Look, we all feel horrible and we're just trying to find our way. Jonathon's gone and that's how it is. Late-Night-Steve Harvey just went off and I'm done typing this. So let me go to sleep.

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GHOSTS OF THE JERSEY SHORE ... 4/7/14

Tiny, jewel-box 'lawns' begin to turn green. Daffodils live and die. Spidery tendrils of damp mold slowly reclaim dark corners and north facing walls. Spring comes to the Jersey Shore. The air is chill and moist. Streets are almost empty. Traffic lights blink, some red and some yellow. Seasons change. Small, white sand crabs re-claim the wet world close to the surf. And the occasional corpse stuffed under a boardwalk or pressed against the seawall begins to rot.

The ghosts are still in evidence. Summer heat and seasonal crowds weakens the 'resonance.' Spirits become thin and dilute. They freeze in place and fade away, til long, fall nights and a yellow, waxy moon calls them back. But there's still time. You might see some people at the local sundry store, or pizza place, or food market. A few restaurants draw crowds on Saturday night. But most streets are barren. A car door slams two blocks away and you hear it. Free hanging shop signs creak in the wind. 

If you're 'down.' If you've stolen a weekend to ready the house for later guests, step out at night. Unlock the door and go forth. Walk passed the houses with their empty driveways and timer-controlled lights snug behind closed draperies..The bacon and egg spot on the corner hibernates. And the mannikins in store windows two blocks down are ashamed of last year's swimsuits. But the suit-changing-lady is still in Florida, so they stare blankly and endure.

Some shadows, some fleeting bits of animation are quite natural... a tree branch... a night bird... a rabbit... two local kids mushing up on a twice-dark porch. But others are not. A face in an attic window... The 'man' walking toward you who suddenly disappears... Did he enter a house?.... Perhaps, but not through an opened door. A child's beach ball soundlessly bounces down the sidewalk, all blue and yellow and red. Then it fades, sinking through the concrete, replaced by a dark, ocher stain.

Go back before it's too late. Put the key in the lock. Shhh, who whispered? Who walked 'round toward the back of the house?... A cat?.. It might have been a cat.... maybe. Step inside. Turn the dead bolt. Lock the door. Click on the television. Get the Cheese Nips from the kitchen. Snuggle on the sofa under throw pillows and an afghan . HGTV is good... Real people... Live people... Buying condos in New York City and villas by The Sea of Cortez.  Relax. Breathe. Doze. You can go upstairs later. But the sand man comes and you drift off. 

Dawn comes, or almost dawn. You get up, peek through the drapes and look. The sky is still black, but it's five thirty... almost dawn, or at least false dawn. Infomercials shine from the screen. You click on the upstairs hall light... turn everything off and hurry up out of the blackness. You run into the hall bathroom, hit the switch and lock the door. Mercifully, the shower curtain is open. You pee and rinse your hands under a trickle. No loud noises when you're alone. Let the pee sit til daylight. Then you race into your room, lock the door (like a bedroom door lock's gonna save you) do a quick closet -and-under-the-bed check and jump under the covers

Silence... Pure silence... nothing, but an ever so slight, subliminal hissing in your ears. Maybe thirty minutes til daylight... Drift off...drift off... please, drift off ..... 

Then a noise... a loud noise.... It's the phone... the land-line  ringing downstairs. You jump, run out, skitter down the steps in the dark and click on the nearest lamp. You focus. You see it. The phone's not there. It's not on the table... and hasn't been since they took it out eighteen months ago. But a little clown figurine,sitting in its place, slowly pivots 'round and smiles... You feel breath on your neck just as the last ring fades......

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A VAMPIRE 'FAMILY' MOURNS .. 4/6/2014

Sarah hardly spoke. She sat there with his book, his ancient, handwritten manuscript in her lap. Edith had the cleaning people come and set things straight. Not the place was in such bad shape. It wasn't. But she just wanted it to be nice. The elferinos and elferinas didn't say much either. Marianne felt guilty, because she was the one who 'found' Peter. And now, Tomas is dead.

Baylah comes over all the time. She still sleeps at her place, but spends her nights here. Edith lights these little green apple aroma candles and puts them all over. Sarah likes them. Green apple is her favorite. And the television's on in the background, but no one watches. Bunch a Toronto people looking at houses. That's all they ever watch. Vampires love HGTV.... safe nooks... refuges and all that. 

Leo went out. Said he needed fresh air. Sarah said - Go. Who's stopping you?.... So he put on his coat (you know those vaguely 'army' looking, green down coats with the wolf trimmed hoods?) and left. Vampires like fresh air, even if the oxygen doesn't nourish them much. Some of them can walk for hours. Leo mostly talks to folks or finds girls... not to bite. He basically sticks to 'the vows.' Got a few 'bed friends' around town. He gives them things. They love him. One got title to a Jeep SUV, a thirty two thousand dollar diamond ring. Vampires got all kinds a stuff. Look, Tomas had a thousand year old stash. ... Not stolen... Stuff he took from real bastards... The ones he 'culled.' 'Familiars' help him sell some, invest the cash. Believe me, after centuries and centuries it's a lot. I don't know for sure, but once a guy from some brokerage firm said 'three hundred and sixty five million dollars.' I wasn't supposed to hear, but I did. Tomas liked to keep it all private. Not because he was selfish. Just didn't want anybody to ever worry about money. Didn't want us to go overboard either. Can't attract too much attention. Once we had a big house, a real old, traditional, gray stone, colonial manor in Chestnut Hill. Nice grounds. Rich neighbors. Annie was with us then. Not Pig Blood Annie. The little one. She got friendly with the mortal kid next door. You know, the one whose mother fed her shitty pizza. "Papa' (the one who rescued Tomas from that fire centuries ago) had a thing for the mother. God, I wonder where he is. 

I had a dream. Tomas had a mortal line too, you know. He's got descendants all over. Well, not 'all over,' but they're around. Sarah comes from them.... So does Peter... Killed him for 'the power.' God knows where he is, or what he's doing with it now.. Well, in my dream, Tomas has another descendant and we find him. Somehow he's here, or he comes here to Philadelphia and we meet him, out on the street one night, just walking along... Warm... spring...like South Street with all the college kids... Turns out he looks just like Tomas too.. trim... Spanish... long wavy hair. Young. Eighteen, just like his distant progenitor. And after a whole lot of basically unimportant stuff he assumes 'the burden' too. He becomes a vampire. And it's like we have Jonathon back. Look, I think I'm going to call him Jonathon. When I talk about him, I mean. I know he had two names. But to me, he's Jonathon. Well, that's my dream.

Some Kabbalah guy came over. One of the 'familiars' sent him. Not a real Kabbalah guy, like a Kabbalah-Lite guy from one of those centers they have all over... like Scientology with more Bible stuff and less aliens. I know they talk about altruism and self-sacrifice and 'fixing' the universe and working toward harmony and all. Look, I watch Access Hollywood. I know. But Sarah asked him if she could talk to Jonathon. He said - No, those left behind should not interfere in the soul journey of the departed. She should just pray (not to Jonathon. to God) and he'll sense her prayers on his behalf and be uplifted.... She said - But I want to talk to him.... The guy said - How could you know it's really him? Some beings are devious. They could trick you. Do you want that?...... She said - Won't God help me? Won't He look out for me? He won't stop that? I'm not asking for a color TV, or a Mercedes Benz, nothing physical, just a little spiritual protection. I want to talk to him..... The guy didn't know what to say. Edith gave him tea and pound cake. Then he left. 

I wanted to ask the Kabbalah guy what I should do to get an agent (it's me, Billy, the one who blogs all this). Jonathon always wanted his story to get out. I try. I try every night almost...but I don't know. Put my shirt on inside-out tonight. They say that means a surprise is coming... a good surprise. You know... synchronicity. Maybe it'll happen

Edith can tell what I'm thinkin' about. Look at her looking. Look at her smiling.

I'm gonna go get a piece of that pound cake.

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The Clash - London Calling ... OK, so ANDREW HARDING'S HYBRIDS are based a bit out of town but the feeling and sentiment is quite the same...Come have tea ... 4/5/14

Can't post any Vampire Wonderland material tonight. They're all understandably depressed around here. Everyone loved Jonathon ( aka Tomas). The funeral was real hard. Doctor Franklin is here. A few 'familiars' are too. Condolence calls officially suspend for the Biblical Sabbath (Friday night to Saturday night), but people come anyway, so I don't know what that means. Sarah plans to 'receive' callers for a few more evenings. She's a little bit numb. It's all on her now.


But I was thinking...on Twitter I talk about London author, Andrew Harding and his popular THE HYBRID SERIES all the time, so here's a link to Chapter 18 of his blog version... (real books are racier).. take a look.  Scroll down if you want to read more. Click this ~~ AHardingBooks.co.uk .. if you want to interact with him on twitter, hit~~Twitter.com/andrewharding4  ... And if you want to peek into one of my long forgotten arcs, Google BINGO BOY by Billy Kravitz and scroll around over there. No vampires in that one, just a hardscrabble romance under the 'el' tracks in a crooked walk-in bingo hall. thanks to all--- Billy


Also, the new (well really just inked) psycho-sexual-thriller 'Knock Knock' written and directed by Eli Roth and starring Keanu Reeves looks real good. Cannes already waiting for the 'sizzle' reel. If you like, please share this with your friends. 

The Vampire, Jonathon ben Macabi Tells Us of His Funeral... 4/3/14

It was dark. there was a soft drizzle. One of the caretakers at Laurel Hill, a 'familiar' met the mourners at an entrance and guided them to the place, a plain, classic building for above ground burial. Some fear the worms and chose this, only to face the flies. For they get in through the tiniest crack and their hatchlings can be tiny too... worms of the air... maggots.

I am ashes... bits of bone and grease. Few will feed on me.... Indeed, few worms feed on those put in the ground. They are buried too deep. Worms prefer top soil, not the clay that lies beneath. And those so entombed are feasts for microbes.

They walk down dark paths. a functionary discretely shines a flashlight upon the ground, through districts of the dead, or at least the parts they left behind. Ornate tombstones and columns mark individual graves and the nighttime earth is moist with the promise of spring. Sarah hugs the urn... my urn. Leo and Baylah walk with her. Edith walks behind with the two elferinos and two elferinas. Baylah's mortal gentleman friend and some other mortals, 'familiars' and such come next. They found a Spanish Rite (Sephardic) rabbi. Not from Philadelphia. From someplace else. Sarah didn't want local clergy involved in the death of a vampire, because word would get out and misguided people might desecrate my resting place.

We approached the old, gray stone building. The heavy, bronze door was opened. We went in. Small, votive candles flickered from wrought iron holders, spaced six feet apart at roughly eye level. My niche was a few yards in. The thick, marble covering had been removed and rested on the floor. Exposed surfaces were plain, gray slabs.

The rabbi, a rather neat, young man with a carefully clipped dark red beard (if he was, in fact, Spanish, or of Iberian decent, he might have been Aragonese or Catalan. I don't know. there were auburn haired and red haired people in Al Andalus too, I suppose.) began the festivities. 

He said - For The Lord shows mercy to all His children, to their bodies, their spirits and their souls, including the soul of Jonathon (he said 'Yo-na-tahn') ben Macabi, beloved son of Rachel and Michael, who left this world with a good name. May The Spirit of The Lord grant him Heavenly rest among all the holy and forgiven. So may it be. And let us say 'amen.'...... 

After that, I did not listen. Funerals are for the earthly. Though I did make my presence known to Sarah and all who mourned. 

When the service was over, two functionaries from the cemetery lifted the marble covering and sealed it back in place. Sarah, as surviving spouse 'assisted.' The rabbi lead them in the first Kaddish Prayer, for the peaceful repose of my soul. Some of the familiars said polite things to Sarah. She put an arrangement of cherry blossoms (Jonathon liked them) in a little holder under his niche.  Then the man with the flashlight lead them back to the cars and they left. The rabbi had his own car. It had to be an unnerving experience for him. And I said some prayers on his behalf as well.

Sarah, Edith and Baylah rode with Baylah's gentleman friend. I think Leo went with them too. He had a limousine, not a big one, just a regular limousine. The 'familiars' and other mortals had their own cars.

Back at the townhouse, they all symbolically washed their hands with water from a little pitcher left on the front steps (an affirmation of life) and went inside. A woman in from the Jersey Pines to help Edith, had tea and vodka, even beef bullion, for the night-folk and sandwiches, cake and other things for the mortals. The elferinos and elferinas came just a bit later with flowers. I think they bought them at an all night supermarket. Edith put them in vases and placed them around the house. 

That's it. Not so different. Faith doesn't die. Night-folk (vampires), and please know I speak of 'noble' vampires, not the rarer 'noxious' types, tend to maintain the beliefs of their mortal life.

So long as we kill not indiscriminately and 'cull' only the wicked, God understands.

We've always been here. And I mean always. Perhaps we are angels of death, or maybe we pick up the slack?

Some Piney people came for Little Joe. They recovered Pig Blood Annie's body and took her home for rites of their own. Our 'familiars' helped with that. And the interior of The Academy of Music is as it was.

But Peter's still out there and he still has the baby...

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