Somerville: Lonely Vampire

A life-tale of a Somerville lonely who narrates his own 'position-paper' in North America as a wandering, note-taking, 'domed' vampire.

A short-vampire tale inspired by Interview with the Vampire (Ann Rice). Enjoy, 

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Somerville is where I made my home since that summer I spent so many years ago for an Ivy internship as a sophomore-year student. I kept to myself mostly and worked quietly at the local nicely-maintained movie theater in Somerville and commuted there by foot to get there everyday at 11am and worked there until about 8pm before the night-shift arrived. I'd sometimes liked taking long walks after the day's work was over, and I'd smoke a Pall Mall or get a comic book or paperback at the local pulp-bookshop on the way home. Sometimes I'd take notice of the people-traffic on the streets. This is my life, and it's boring and simple, which is what I prefer to make/keep my life quiet and sane and peaceful, giving me ample time to just work at that iconic Somerville movie theater and meditate/brood on my double-identity or other life-existence as a real-life vampire.

One day, in the summertime of my work-time at the Somerville bijoux, I decided to take half-day's work off and walked around and decided to keep walking from about 3pm to 8pm, but during the walk, at around 4pm, I took notice of a strange and lovely looking sunglass-wearing American woman sitting on a bistro chair and ordering some Starbucks and smiling as people walked by her little chair-station on the Somerville street(s). I took notice of this bright lovely woman since she'd seemed like she'd 'possessed' the same look in her eyes as I did, and as if she'd had that look because of the same reason --- because she was a vampire too! She could've been anyone (and I swore I'd seen her 'visage' before in some other 'standard' boring non-vampire woman from the modern society of 'divine' magazines), any young attractive woman I randomly noticed or even decided to court, but this one was, I was certain, was a real-life vampire!

I invited her back to my Somerville apartment and decided to make her some delicious chicken-salad sandwiches with freezing-cold apple juice. We listened to some nice Beach Boys music on my record-player in my Somerville residence. We made love. I then told her I was writing a novel, a novella, or an opus, on life a 'real-life' vampire in North America (United States). I told her I myself was a practicing Catholic from sectarian 'troubled' Belfast, Northern Ireland (United Kingdom), and that I'd adopted/adorned the beautiful faith because of its beautiful structuralism and nice toasts to the blood-divinity of the Savior. I then realized she shared very similar views, which is when I told her that I was actually a 'real-life' vampire, and I showed her my teeth, and she showed me hers, and I knew she was indeed a creature of the blood-moon night(s). She tried to bloody murder me that night in my own Somerville apartment, and I had to return the 'favor' and disposed of the evidence (completely) and spent the rest of the night reading An American Tragedy (Dreiser).

The point of this story isn't that I'm returning to a more 'veiled' life in Belfast, Northern Ireland (United Kingdom). The point of this small-tale of tall-tale proportions is that being a real-life vampire in the summer universe of Somerville (North America) requires a special consciousness. It requires a special moonlit loneliness, which is what I brood about when smoking my Pall Malls or reading a comic book at the end of the day's work at the lit-and-maintained American movie theater. It's a fine life, and a fine madness, and I wonder if that one lovely lady vampire I did once meet, the only one I know was certainly a vampire on Earth like me worth the courtship ritual(s), whose name I never bothered to ask for, was in some strange proportion my angel-messenger of a life lived more discreetly...or darkly!

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)