Vlad’s Vampire Diary: You Can’t Go Home Again

Dear Diary,

Going home is no longer an option.

This morning I went to Google Maps. There are cameras in space, up in the sky, in the heavens taking photographs of the Earth. Everything can be seen. I dare say unseen is what I wish today.

This thing called technology, baffles me. It amazes me. What amazes me the most is that all of this, which would have once been considered black magic is now not magic at all, AND it has almost all happened in the past one hundred years. It has happened in the past fifty years.

After being imprisoned in a crypt for three hundred years, I am still overwhelmed. The past four years… I can not even describe them.

This morning at dawn I stood out on my deck and looked at the sun coming up over the dark night sky. I thought about my old home where I was King of Vampires and all I could see. This morning I saw a flock of turkeys. Alas I am not even King of Turkeys now.

So inside I went to my MacBook Pro and to Google Maps and to my castle.

It was gone. My castle was not there. GONE. Not a trace. Just forest and meadows and NOTHING. All traces of my existence was gone. I looked up my name. Nothing but some Russian fool who rides horses and other animals without a shirt, and ridiculous laughable horror movies, and bad fan fiction. There is no trace or memory of me.

I picked up my phone (another unbelievable marvel of technology) and called my friend Randolpho. He said I had to look on the Dark Web to find information about real Vampires. I do not understand. I know that by web he does not mean a spider web but something of course we can not see. This new world and the language is confusing. Everything is called by a name that is indeed a tangled web of language. He said I needed a special server and spoke of other things I do not understand. Who is that special server and where do I find him? Will he serve only me or others as well? I did not risk asking Randolpho and seeing his eyes roll.

Yes, that is something people do now. They roll their eyes around in their heads as if to say, “you are ridiculous and have the mind of a child.” I have recently learned the term, “bless his heart,” means the same thing. Eye rolling. Bah.

I am forgotten. I am lost. I am new. I am frustrated.

I expressed this feeling to my love Gillian.

She said, “You’re so cute Vlad.” Then she kissed me. That is something no amount of technology can improve on.

So apparently I am cute as well. I do not understand this cute, but I will take her word for it. My advice to any male is to take a woman’s word on it, no matter what she says.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I still mourn the loss of my former home and kingdom, but on the other hand I am glad it is gone and nobody else is living there in my place.

Tonight I walked around my new home. It is a 3,500 square foot home with what is called a good sized yard. There is plenty of room for me, the cats, Jane the coyote dog, and Gillian when she is here.

Gillian has claimed her own bathroom (there are four of them. FOUR.) With all of the tools and cosmetics at her disposal there is no need of a maid for her. When I first met her it took two hours for her to get ready in the morning. She had layers and layers of clothing. She had layers of hair. Cosmetics were complex and questionable. Now she jumps in the shower, blows her hair with hot air and lets it flow down her back, then she pulls on six items. Only six. Bra, panties, jeans, shirt, two shoes. That is all. Sometimes she wears a dress, but it is tiny and no slip, corset, underskirts, hoops, or pads are needed. It is just my beautiful Gillian’s natural shape that shows. She sometimes laughs and says it is easier to be a Vampire with fewer clothes.

Gillian also has taught me how to get blood stains out using magical chemicals and a machine that actually washes clothing. In my castle there were five women who washed my clothing, and only my clothing. There were a dozen more to do the job for the rest of the castle.

Yes, I can now wash clothing in secret, with my own private machine, without anyone knowing what I have been doing the night before. That is always a good thing.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I was out tonight at my favorite night spot, where Vampires can sit among the crowd without anyone suspecting they are only there looking for a bit to eat in peace.

The bartender and owner, a lovely woman named Cassie, has become, shall I say, a friend.

Tonight she leaned against the bar facing me and asked me, “Where are you from Vlad? Originally? I can’t place your accent? Europe? South Africa?”

I smiled and took her hand, “Dear Cassie, where I come from no longer exists. Even if I could go home those who live there would not welcome me. I have found a home here, with those who are like me, in a new home with strangers. But strangers no more. I have you and others friends who are far better people than I knew before.”

“You can’t go home again. Sort of like the Thomas Wolfe novel. Have you read it?”

“No. Write it down. I will read it.”

“You seem sad,” she said.

“No, I am not sad. I am just feeling, what do you say, retrospective.” Then I smiled at her in a way that charms all who have warm blood in their veins. “I come from a place in Europe where the mountains are high and eagles still fly above the towering trees. I do not even know what country it is now. It does not matter. I am here in California. I will learn to ride a board on the waves. What is it called? Smurfing?”

“Surfing. It is surfing. Smurfs are small blue French people. Like annoying little dwarves and there’s only one girl.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. I just smiled and then scanned the room for someone with a nice neck and a healthy pulse.

Later with my veins full of fresh blood and my mind clear I went back to see Cassie. I gave her a kiss on her cheek and a hug. I closed my eyes feeling her heart beat.

“Thank you my dear Cassie for giving comfort to an old man.”

“Love you Vlad. HA! Old man my ass. What are you? Thirty-two, thirty-four?”

“Something like that,” I said as I kissed her cheek again. I would never tell her that I am 675 years old. I would never tell. It always confuses people, more than any technology can confuse an old Vampire like me.

As I left I could hear her tell the other bartender, “Damn, he is cute.”

I do not understand this cute. That I will never understand, but I will take it as a compliment from a friend.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I woke in a cold sweat. I am a Vampire so I only have cold sweat. I had a nightmare about small blue Frenchmen. They smelled of garlic and blueberries. They sang songs in deep throaty voices about ripping out the heart of Vlad the Vampire King.

The door to my bedroom opened. My love Gillian came in. She was wearing an extremely small black dress. The dress fell to the floor, along with her bra and panties. That was three pieces of clothing. She had no shoes. Now she wore nothing but diamond studs in her ears.

She crawled into bed with me, putting her smooth cold arms around me. I put my arms around her and pulled her close as she skimmed her fangs across my neck, then put her lips to mine.

I closed my eyes, and saw blue men, screaming as the large waves covered them while the great white sharks ate them like teenage children eat Hot Cheetos.

Gillian took my face in her hands. “Are you ok Vlad?”

OK. That is another one of those words I do not understand. It means someone  or something is good, or not bad, or it could mean anything, or nothing.

“I am fine,” I said. “Just take my mind off of my mind. Make me forget.”

As always she did. And then some.

~ Vlad

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

You’ve just read the 40th entry of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To start from the beginning, or read your favorites again click here. 

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Short Story Sunday: The Time Travelers

Tangled Tales

The Time Travelers

Carefully opening the package, Theo discovered a formerly unknown packet of love letters between Thomas Jefferson and the wife of one of his best friends. Unknown to the modern world. Everyone back then had known, well almost everyone who knew the couple. They were just too polite to say anything.

The paper was still in good condition and the ink strong. “Very good,” he said to himself. Dealing in old documents and antiques could be tricky if you didn’t know what was real and what was not. He always knew what was real.

As he gently lifted the old letters back into the box there was a sudden flash of light and a beautiful woman in jeans and a sweater suddenly appeared before him.

“Theo? Darling, what are you doing here?” The woman seemed surprised to see him. Well damn, he was equally surprised. It was almost 3:00 a.m. and his shop was closed for the Thanksgiving holiday week.

He looked her up and down. Tall, pretty, sort of out of place. No, really out of place. “This is my place of business. Do I know you?”

“You’re… are you a time traveler too? You didn’t tell me? Did you get here on the Tardis?” She gave a little laugh like they were old buddies with an inside joke.

Theo was not amused. “What are you talking about? What is the Tardis?”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Dr. Who. His time machine. You know the 250th Anniversary.”

“Oh right. The 50th anniversary or something like that. I don’t watch it. Never did. You need to leave.”

She stepped towards him and smiled that dazzling smile of hers again. “How did you get here?”

Theo was not amused. “I’m sorry, I thought I made it clear that I’m no fan of Dr. Who. You need to go right now. I’ve had enough of your deranged game.”

She took another step forward. “Then how did you go from being in 2318 back to 2018? That’s three hundred years.”

“So I know you in the future?”

“We’re lovers. Don’t you remember?”

He didn’t remember. But it suddenly dawned on him where she had come from and why she was there. “I haven’t been there yet,” he quietly told her.

She wasn’t the first time traveler he’d run across in his 465 years, but this is the first time he’d encountered her.

“What is your name?” He asked her as he stepped closer.

“Laura. How could you not know?”

“This is as far as I’ve come my dear. I can’t travel to the future.”

She looked confused. “You’re in the past Theo.”

“My present. You don’t know do you? In the future we’re still hiding who we really are. Laura are we in a relationship of the heart or is it just a physical thing?”

Her eyes watered up. “Theo, don’t do this.”

“Laura, do you know what I am?”

“You’re the man I’m falling in love with.”

“I’m the man who will take what he needs and either leave you or kill you. My advice would be to change time and let me be.”

A tear rolled down her beautiful face. “No. How did you get here.”

“The question should be how did I get THERE. Laura.” He whispered her name and stepped closer. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

He kissed her than moved to her neck. He could taste unknown drugs of the future in her system, no doubt something to help with the effects of time travel or stress. He could read her memories of their affair. It was a strange time. Time Travelers always had memories that were confusing and somewhat ignorant. What they knew of the past was almost always based on fantasy and what they wanted it to be, not what it really had been.

Looking down on the sleeping woman, Theo thought that she must be intelligent to be part of a Time Travel program, but emotionally she was like a teenage girl all full of fluttery ideas and dreams of romance. He’d never fall in love with her.

Yawning, he looked at the clock to realize dawn was almost here. Time to sleep. “I’m the ultimate time traveler. A Vampire dear. I only go forward. Until we meet again.” Then he kissed her gently and left her alone to return to her own time and his future.

 

End

Antique Pocket Watch With A Heart

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Vampire Diary: Modern Technology

Dear Diary,

The cat came home wet and covered with mud. I am not amused.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I find that after one has been sealed in a crypt, against his will, for three hundred years, one has time to think. I thought many things during those three centuries sealed in a crypt with a knife through my heart.

That is literally a knife, not figuratively like the rejection of a lover. I was the Vampire King the rejection of a lover was not something that was possible.

After being rescued after three hundred years in captivity I find myself in a world full of wonders and confusion. I quickly took to automobiles. I have both electric and gas powered automobiles. Yet I have found that electricity makes it both easier and more difficult for the tasks involved in being a Vampire. Light at the touch of a switch can ruin any meal.

Last night I was in a dark corner, my fangs sinking into the neck of my dinner companion when suddenly there were lights. Someone yelled, “I found a Vaporeon, oh crap, shit, sorry. I didn’t know you two…”

I looked up, blood dripping from my chin. I never drip blood. Holding up my hand I whispered for them to turn and forget what they saw. The memories were erased from their minds.

Electricity. What is the saying they say about being damned if you do our you do not? Damned if you are a Vampire caught sucking blood from the necks of unsuspecting hipsters. I like that word hipster. It makes me smile with thoughts of humor.

~ Vlad

 

 

Dear Diary,

I have gone unnoticed in history. I am a Vampire so I should not be surprised. We keep our histories to ourselves, or hide our true selves.

When I was out tonight a group of young women caught my attention. They came to me like moths to flames, or more like small children to candy. Seduction is easy when one is a Vampire.

They told me that I am cute. I still do not understand this cute. Cats are cute. Babies are cute. I am not a cat or a baby. One said I was gorgeous. That I understand. That young woman, she is called Heather, speaks the truth.

One of the women asked if I was Russian and mentioned Vladimir Putin. They said he was not so cute. Of course he is not cute. Being called Vlad does not automatically make one cute. Then they giggled (I never understood the excessive giggling of young women) and mentioned Vlad the Impaler. I am not Russian or an impaler.

Oh the bane of my modern existence is this man Vlad the Impaler whom I consider an imposter. There is NOTHING cute about Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia, otherwise sometimes said to have inspired the fictional Dracula. The man sold his soul but was no Vampire.

“That Vlad was not cute,” I said to the women. They giggled. I did, what do they say…I scored big time.

I could have told the young women about the cruelties he inflicted on women and children, but cooking them alive and forcing their families to eat them. I could have told them the things he did to the wives of the men he hated, but I did not.

I would rather seduce a population than rule them in fear. Maybe that is what they mean by cute. No, maybe not. On the other hand, that is exactly what cats do. Cats are cute. Maybe.

I remember when I first heard word of Vlad the Impaler. My Baba told me about him and said I must be careful. I told her, “Baba, I’ve been Vampire King for over two hundred years, I know what I am doing. He will not bring fear upon the hearts of my people.”

Baba said, “Grandson, you must watch, not just in the shadows, but in the light. Watch for those who are not only powerful, but watch for those who rule with fear and malice. You rule with power and the seduction of a Vampire. Those outside of your rule fear you. Never let those who live under your protection live in fear of you.”

Vlad the Impaler was killed by a rival and buried in an unmarked grave. He was no Vampire. The world has not changed in so many ways. Technology abounds yet humans still prove themselves to be stupid and cruel. Humans prove they are sheep who follow a lead, only to find themselves being eaten alive.

After I’d had my fill of blood, at the home of one of the women, I walked to my car, thinking about this strange world I woke up in.

I closed my eyes and thought of the warm skin of one of the girls on my lips, and her hot hands on my body, and I wondered if she could also be considered cute. She was beautiful, but empty in the way so many young girls are. One day she will find wisdom through experience, and that will be even a more delicious night.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

I imagine what my Baba would think of this new world I have found myself in. I remember her bringing me a cup of warm blood and singing me songs of night. Even when I was a grown man she was there with stories of great Vampire Kings of the past, and the time when she was almost a Vampire Queen. I told her that she would always be my Queen. Baba would pat me on the head and smile showing her magnificent fangs. Then she would call me good boy and tell me to drink my blood.

Tonight my lover Gillian came to my house. She is the stars in my sky. She is the key to the universe. Gillian understands technology, as I would have if I had not been locked up for so many years.

When she kissed me I could taste blood on her lips. “You have already eaten,” I said.

She smiled and kissed my neck. “Just a snack.”

I love that woman.

Driving an automobile came easy to me. That was never a problem. Gillian helped me master the television remote, all of those apple things which are not fruits, and power tools. I find power tools quite exciting, especially the chain saw and the belt sander.

I also like the blow dryer on my golden locks. I feel the power of the hot air going through my hair as if I have harnessed the great winds coming down from the sky at my beck and call. One must get thrills where he can if one is no longer King of the Vampires.

And there are closets in houses. Closets are the best thing of all.

After a night out with Gillian I found myself in her arms, not wanting her to ever leave. I find that love has changed over the centuries as well, even among Vampires.

“Move in with me,” I told her. “This house is large with a lot of closets.”

She pulled me closer. “Are closets all you have to offer?”

“I will show you what I have to offer,” I told her.

No need to write more.

~ Vlad

 

 

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Death, Ghosts, and Pokemon Go

Like everyone else, my kids are playing Pokemon Go. In case you’ve been somewhere else, like on another planet or Albania, Pokemon Go is an application you download to your phone. Thanks to a partnership of some sorts with Google Maps, you can find Pokemon critters everywhere. There are hot spots to collect goodies and balls to capture the creatures. There are gyms where they can fight each other. Parks, schools, churches, and murals are all hot spots for a lot of activity. We even found one in our house yesterday.

Of course there are going to be snarky critics who don’t understand the attraction to this game. Screw em. It is a GAME. It is FUN. I’ve had fun watching it bring parents and their teens together.

This is the link to the official web site: http://www.pokemongo.com/en-us/explore/

A quote from the site:

Get up, get out, and explore!

Get on your feet and step outside to find and catch wild Pokemon. Explore cities and towns where you live – and even around the globe  – to capture as many Pokemon as you can. As you walk through the real world, your smartphone will vibrate to let you know you’re near a Pokemon. 

It goes on to tell the players that there is a lot of activity in public sites. One place where there is a lot of activity is cemeteries.

As you know, my kids and I like to visit old cemeteries for various reasons. It isn’t because we’re Vampires. Contrary to popular horror movie culture we don’t live in crypts or in rotting coffins under the ground. Yes, occasionally someone ends up there, but not too often anymore. But that isn’t what this post is about.

Yesterday I was out and about with my kids (ages 17 and 20) when one of them mentioned we were near a cemetery with a lot of activity. So of course at the light I pulled into the parking lot.

I have to admit that I had never been to this particular grave yard, only minutes from my home. It was founded in 1855, four years before I was born. Most of the old grave markers are now flat on the ground, having been broken over the years, and then repaired by no doubt loving hands. Several of the markers and statues are marked by Pokemon activity.

As we walked along exploring the stones we forgot about the game, and started to speculate on the names and the stories.

Unlike many modern cemeteries this one had a mix of flat markers, and traditional larger tombstones. Many had images of hobbies, activities, and occupations. Old and new were mixed together with no real pattern.

Less than a mile away in the old Catholic cemetery we once found a marker for a child who passed away at the age of eight. She would have been forty this year had she been alive. Her stone was in the back by a fence, alone, dusty, all alone. I still wonder about her. No ghost sits on her grave to give us answers.

In this cemetery by the lake, the same lake that borders my neighborhood, there are few ghosts out during the day. It was quieter there than most places of rest.

Anyway, to make a short story even longer…

In the back, near the back fence border, I was attracted to a stone with a portrait on it, and the colorful large headstones near it. I found myself in an entire section of young people. Not babies, but people who’d been in their teens and early twenties. They were Millennials. These were all recent, in the past few years.

One stone, the one that first attracted me, had a message from a twenty year old man’s parents. It said, We will never forgive ourselves for not being able to save you. It broke my heart.

All of the stones had pictures on the headstones of sports, animals, and hobbies, and stories, and portraits and photos of the kids. It was the saddest place in the world. Teens aren’t supposed to die. And here I was with my children, who are in the same age group. It was so random. So sad. They were all there together in the back, near the edge of the lake, where young people hang out.

If was as if they were calling us over to say, “don’t forget us.”

It was odd how a game that is played by young people brought us to such a place.

On the way back across to where I’d parked we saw other stones and speculated on lives that once were. The place was dotted with tiny stones of children who’d come and gone before their first birthday, or first day of school. Yet none of them seemed alone, between the larger graves.

In Chico there is a cemetery with a large children’s area. It is a sad wasteland with no grass or trees, slapped in a sunken area that nobody else would want. Tiny markers with lonely lambs sit in the hot sun, and the cold rain, all alone.

Some say that Vampire infants, those tiny beings born to Vampires parents, steal the souls of dead children. Rest assured it isn’t true.

Last night we had a boisterous night at home with a lot of laughing and joking around. Today there was more searching for tiny creatures in our smartphones.

My brother Andy was over and smiled at our adventures. His strong distaste for ghosts keeps him out of cemeteries, and he doesn’t use his smartphone for anything but phone calls and the occasional text, but he did have some suggestions for an app my son and his friends are developing. It is for Vampires looking for good places to dine. It sounds like a great idea, but for this summer I think I’ll stick to finding tiny imaginary Japanese creatures with my phone, but not without a touch of sadness.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

 

Friday Time Travel Edition

I was listening to Science Friday on the radio today and one of the subjects was Summer Science Fiction Reading.

And that got me thinking about science, and specifically time travel, and that involves physics, and theft. It involves figuring out stolen technology, and what happens when one becomes involved with technology one does not fully understand. Or what happens when the ego gets too involved with that technology.

Think about it.

I’ve been remiss on my blog writing lately, the reasons are not important, but this discussion on the radio (an old but wonderful technology that should NEVER go away) made me stop to explain that sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.

In today’s world so much science fiction is now science fact. Look at Star Trek and their flip phones. They didn’t have the Internet, or they might have, but nobody was laughing at Klingon memes, much less cosmic cat memes, or taco cat memes for that matter. We’ve been on the moon. People are living in space right now. I’m writing this to you on a small MacBook Pro that has more functions and power than computers that used to fill up a football stadium worth of space. I drive a car that gets satellite radio, air conditioning, and tells me when my tires are low.

Yet, we’re still not where most science fiction takes us, locked within our own quiet solar system, all alone in the back waters of the Milky Way. Seriously, what if someone came to our planet and we asked him where in the Milky Way he was from, and he laughed? He laughed a great big belly laugh. On his world they call our galaxy the Sparkling Matter Pizza. You never know. I mean you really never know who or what is out there.

An in turn, most people have no idea what is right here at home. That isn’t a good thing, or a bad thing, it is just a thing.

OK I’m wrong about that. Some of ignorance is good, and some is bad. The ignorance about science and technology is bad. The ignorance of those of us who live on the edge of the world of light and shadows (so to speak because I don’t want to use the term paranormal) is a good thing for us. By us I mean Vampires. It also means Werewolves, Ghosts, and assorted others. But back to Time Travel.

When the first Human Time Travelers from Earth started to show up the fact that most of them were real jerks didn’t go unnoticed. The technology was stolen from various sources. They had no concept of what to do with it or what they would find. They thought they knew what they would find.

What the Time Travelers did not expect to find was Vampires.

For example, you’re a Time Traveler and you have your machine set for 1645. You get there. You meet a guy. He is cute. You have an affair. He makes you feel all light headed and lovely. He says he’ll see you around. Then you go to 1864 and there he is, a Union Officer. Same guy. Wow. You feel light headed when you’re with him again. Of course you do. He has drained out half of your blood, but you don’t know that. Then you see him in 2016. By then he is annoyed with you, and nobody ever sees you again. Or he might just fuck you silly and you go forward to the year 2345 and there he is again. Then you ask him about his time machine and he rips your throat out.

Or you meet him in 2016, then you go back to 1430 and there he is and he has no idea who you are, but you know it is him. He doesn’t know you but he knows you’re a time traveler. He is not amused.

Of course he isn’t amused because he is another kind of time traveler. He is a Vampire.

Vampires don’t take to kindly to Time Travelers. They are the uninvited guest that never seem to get a clue that nobody wants them there. Everything to them is like a game. But real life and time machine cosplay aren’t the same thing.

Everybody likes the idea of time travel, but believe me nobody likes a Time Traveler.

A while back I shared a story based on the experience of a friend of mine. I’ll share it again, right now. Here you go.

The Time Travelers

Carefully opening the package, Theo discovered a formerly unknown packet of love letters between Thomas Jefferson and the wife of one of his best friends. Unknown to the modern world. Everyone back then had known, well almost everyone who knew the couple. They were just too polite to say anything.

The paper was still in good condition and the ink strong. “Very good,” he said to himself. Dealing in old documents and antiques could be tricky if you didn’t know what was real and what was not. He always knew what was real.

As he gently lifted the old letters back into the box there was a sudden flash of light and a beautiful woman in jeans and a sweater suddenly appeared before him.

“Theo? Darling, what are you doing here?” The woman seemed surprised to see him. Well damn, he was equally surprised. It was almost 3:00 a.m. and his shop was closed for the Thanksgiving holiday week.

He looked her up and down. Tall, pretty, sort of out of place. No, really out of place. “This is my place of business. Do I know you?”

“You’re… are you a time traveler too? You didn’t tell me? Did you get here on the Tardis?” She gave a little laugh like they were old buddies with an inside joke.

Theo was not amused. “What are you talking about? What is the Tardis?”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Dr. Who. His time machine. You know the 250th Anniversary.”

“Oh right. The 50th anniversary or something like that. I don’t watch it. Never did. You need to leave.”

She stepped towards him and smiled that dazzling smile of hers again. “How did you get here?”

Theo was not amused. “I’m sorry, I thought I made it clear that I’m no fan of Dr. Who. You need to go right now. I’ve had enough of your deranged game.”

She took another step forward. “Then how did you go from being in 2313 back to 2013? That’s three hundred years.”

“So I know you in the future?”

“We’re lovers. Don’t you remember?”

He didn’t remember. But it suddenly dawned on him where she had come from and why she was there. “I haven’t been there yet,” he quietly told her.

She wasn’t the first time traveler he’d run across in his 465 years, but this is the first time he’d encountered her.

“What is your name?” He asked her as he stepped closer.

“Laura. How could you not know?”

“This is as far as I’ve come my dear. I can’t travel to the future.”

She looked confused. “You’re in the past Theo.”

“My present. You don’t know do you? In the future we’re still hiding who we really are. Laura are we in a relationship of the heart or is it just a physical thing?”

Her eyes watered up. “Theo, don’t do this.”

“Laura, do you know what I am?”

“You’re the man I’m falling in love with.”

“I’m the man who will take what he needs and either leave you or kill you. My advice would be to change time and let me be.”

A tear rolled down her beautiful face. “No. How did you get here?”

“The question should be how did I get THERE. Laura.” He whispered her name and stepped closer. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

He kissed her than moved to her neck. He could taste unknown drugs of the future in her system, no doubt something to help with the effects of time travel or stress. He could read her memories of their affair. It was a strange time. Time Travelers always had memories that were confusing and somewhat ignorant. What they knew of the past was almost always based on fantasy and what they wanted it to be, not what it really had been.

Looking down on the sleeping woman, Theo thought that she must be intelligent to be part of a Time Travel program, but emotionally she was like a teenage girl all full of fluttery ideas and dreams of romance. He’d never fall in love with her. She wasn’t of his kind and she never would be.

Yawning, he looked at the clock to realize dawn was almost here. Time to sleep. “I’m the ultimate time traveler. A Vampire dear. I only go forward. Until we meet again.” Then he kissed her gently and left her alone to return to her own time and his future.

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I have several other posts about time travelers. My mother likes to screw with their minds in a big way. Do a search. You’ll find them.

If you don’t know what Science Friday is CLICK HERE to discover all sorts of cool things, including that summer Science Fiction reading discussion. And this week is
CEPHALOPOD WEEK 2016. How cool is that?

Oh, oh, oh… I have a joke for you. I made it up. If an octopus has eight legs what do you call a cat? A quadrapuss. HA HA HA HA HA.

I’ll see you all later,

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

Next we'll discuss the physics of Artistic Rollerskating. Talk about time travel... but that is another discussion.

Next we’ll discuss the physics of Artistic Rollerskating. Talk about time travel… but that is another discussion.

 

No Connection

This morning I dropped my computer off at the broken down computer shop. The shop is local and more or less a one guy shop. I could have gone down to the insanely busy and hip Apple Store and driven around an hour to find parking (seriously), but I decided to bring my square headed boyfriend and business partner to the nice computer guy in my neighborhood. I could have driven a few blocks more and been at the gates of Folsom Prison but anyway…

My computer isn’t charging. So for today I found someone else. The square headed boyfriend that I’m using today is cool. His name is Dell. He is dark and handsome with a really big screen.

So I wait with Dell, handsome but a little slow and unfamiliar. He is a good one, and at one time I would have been happy with Dell, but my Mac knows me. Mac and I have been through a lot. I’ve put him through a lot. I mean, there are a lot of things I wish he could do better, but I’m happy to have him.

Mac had been slowing down, not charging, and not making a good connection. This morning he wasn’t responding at all.

My phone is in my back pocked so I won’t miss the call. I hope the news is good.

I’m sorry Dell, I love you and your big 17 inch screen, but it just isn’t working. You don’t have the right software.

But as long as Mac is away… he’ll never know.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman