SOME NIGHTS AGO
Lovers of stories know the tale of Dracula, king of the night walkers. Once the world thought him vanquished in the latter part of the nineteenth century. Such presumption of his demise brought comfort to humankind, and who was the Count to rob them of that? Better thought a myth than an ever-present danger.
The ocean air blew with the taste of salt. A mortal man might have thought it refreshing. Though for the night king it was more awareness than sensation. The same went for the humidity of this South American villa. His flesh, more numb than cold, did not stick and did not perspire. He was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable in this environment.
All that sated him was life blood pouring direct from a host. But even that, after a time, became the property of the mundane.
With hunger muted by experience Count Dracula idled in a wicker chair. Staring at the waves he wondered what mortal eyes saw. Color, shade? Would the gentle hiss soothe them instead of sharpening their awareness? What irony that he should find enviable the existence of short-lived cattle. Continue reading “Glimmer Girl #24 – “Shimmering Dusk” (Part 2)”