Art (an extremely short Vampire story)
He never tried of looking at the Thomas Hill painting of Yosemite. Behind him he could hear the museum docent talking about the Guilded Age and the massive woodwork behind him.
As a child he’d come here for musical events, and even roller skating. Not exactly here, the new wing of the museum opened in 2010. He’d been in the original building and even in the private residence next door.
When you’re born in 1956 and still around in 2018 sometimes time seems to stand still.
A woman came up next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He kissed her cheek.
“You look like a woman in a portrait I just saw,” he said.
“I am the woman in the portrait you saw,” she said. It was a long running joke with them.
“Glad you could make it Mom.”
“So am I. We need to do this more often.”
“October is almost here.”
“Indeed. Four of my children have birthday’s this month.”
She gave a little snort. “It was easier to be a Vampire before Halloween was such a big deal.”
They roamed the galleries looking at both familiar and new art pieces.
She took her son’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I loved those times, when everything here was new. It was a new city. You were all children. So much was happening. I miss people, but I look forward. I don’t dwell on the past. That keeps us young. If you keep looking towards the future and live in the present it will keep you from being a Halloween Vampire. I shutter to think that any of my kids will be musty old beings who don’t have enough sense to keep their fangs in and blood off of their chins.”
“You’ll never have to worry about that,” said her son. “But I know what you mean.”
As they walked along they could see other in contemplation looking at the art, which like them, was timeless.