Even by vampire standards I don’t get enough sleep.
I was up a 5 a.m. this morning. I should have been sleeping but my dreams turned to visions of vampire hunters and car repairs and other fears.
After making coffee with a shot of blood I went to the back deck and listened to the birds. The cats came out to join me, along with the dogs. They are morning creatures, even the nocturnal cats.
The damned ghost appeared in the field with a smug grin and a wave. My lip started to go into a snarl, but I stopped and managed to lift my cup as if to say “Cheers to Friday you son of a bitch.”
It made me ponder all of us who are different – the vampires, werewolves and others who aren’t like the regular humans.
I thought of my husband Teddy who used to be a regular human. He is now a vampire but he can’t ever be a regular human again. I was born a vampire but I can’t ever become a regular human. Even with vast amounts of research nobody can figure it out. The werewolves thought they’d figured it out but in the end there was nothing of any merit.
My friend Adam was born a werewolf. Triplets. It should have been a clue. I don’t know many werewolves right now. There aren’t many of them. They were killed almost off in the last two centuries by bounty hunters. New werewolves (who were once regulars) take twice as much work as a new vampire.
Ghosts can go back because they don’t have bodies. I’m not sure I’d want them to come back.
There are others who come and go from our lives – those I can’t explain, but more on that later. It makes my brain hurt.
Friday is always a main feeding day. I have a lunch date with an attorney and later in the day an FBI agent (a nice normal regular guy – not like what you see in the movies). Maybe that was my reason for not being able to sleep. The thrill of the hunt always gets me a little jumpy.
But I’m up. Another wave and a genuine smile to my sad ghost and I’m off to get ready for a new day.