Eleanor (Part 1)

That evening Mary hailed a cab without a clearly thought-out plan except her thirst for fresh new buds and pale-blue dreams of human blood, then might perhaps her foe abate: the Time that turned the present-day into a place beyond her reach and her a lonely irksome leech. How fair, what Mary felt just then! To stop herself from being a pest she had but drain a strong, young heart of life and in its stead impart the strangest gift the world contains: eternal slumber wanting pain. Repentance briefly crossed her mind for deeds not yet performed when lights across Miami Beach bedazed her eyes already in decay from peering at the world outside through windows stained by passing Time, again Its tangled web finespun with careless mastery all outdone until of souls the windows called would rather shut and not appall inquiring folks that come around. -The nasty clubs are underground- the driver stated with demur afraid to learn of such impure designs beneath the glorious gray that should have signalled placid days, yet Mary knew his desperate grip upon the offered handsome tip would see him gone without more qualms, his conscience bought he'd sleep with calm.Its the first part of four. Mary and Eleanor. Written September 22nd, 2001 © on Sep 21 2001 05:37 PM PST   0 • 10