Randolpho
This is not a story with a plot, with a beginning, middle, and dramatic ending. There is no mystery, and no stunning unveiling. It is a story of growth, maybe some redemption, and a lot of cute. It is a story of a man, my closest and dearest friend, coming to terms about who he is. It is a personal diary written in real time, from 2014 – 2022.
Juliette Kings has transcribed his diary, leaving out minute details, mundane events such as daily weather reports, entries about litter boxes, garbage schedules, notes on drip sprinkler systems, and excessive venting about his ex-wife, among other things. Elders who read and write our friend’s native language have helped translate where he drifted away from English.
Now a forgotten figure in history, my friend, Vlad Winter was a man before his time. Bridging generational gaps and cultural stigmas he kept his people together. Unfortunately, there were those who could not accept his visionary ways.
Vlad was never one to blindly follow tradition and what his forefathers did. He was enlightened before the Age of Enlightenment. This is a record of how he became even more enlightened.
~ Randolpho
2024
Juliette
Constantine Jones sat down across from me. We were at my house, in my sun drenched breakfast nook, with a view of an oak tree filled field.
As usual Constantine was as always, dressed to kill. Today it was an unstructured brown leather jacket, a white button down shirt with a hand painted geometric patterned tie, paired with perfectly fitting Levi 501s, with brown leather lace up boots. “How can you stand all of this bright light?”
I noticed his green framed glasses had transitioned to a darker tint.
“I’m used to it.” I said to my guest. “My son on the other hand has an extreme sensitivity to sunlight. It isn’t easy for everyone. I get it.”
I gave him a mug of coffee. It was good. A nice pour over, but that isn’t important, except for the fact I wanted to make him feel comfortable talking to me. “Bourbon?” I asked.
“Yes, please,” he said as he watched me fill up the remaining space in the mug. It was only 11:00 a.m. but that’s ok. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a ghost sitting on my deck. I pretended not to notice.
“Tell me about him Constantine,” I said.
“Every group has that one friend. You know, that chiasmatic guy who keeps the group cohesive, is fiercely protective of everyone, is universally loved, and then becomes just another long forgotten missing person. To tell the truth I had given up finding him years ago. I hate to admit it, but I just assumed he was dead.”
He glanced out the window. “You’ve got a ghost out there.”
“I know. They’re always out there,” I said.
“So, you want to know about Vlad?”
“As a child I’d heard stories about Vlad Winter. He’d vanished off the face of the earth, leaving a legacy of contradictions, and…”
“I invited him here. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“Here? At my home?”
“Yeah, we want you to transcribe his diary.”
“I write fiction,” I said.
“Not anymore,” said Constantine Jones with a smile, ever so slightly showing his fangs. ”And one more thing Juliette. Randolpho is wrong about this project. There is a dramatic ending. It was something quite unexpected.”
So began the tale Of Immorality and Deathly Cuteness.
~ Juliette Kings, 2024
Vampire Maman 