i am not a vampire.
“If you move your fucking neck, I will shoot you.
I’m not kidding. I, I, I promise. I will shoot you in the back of your head.”
This is the climax. This is almost the end. The part of the story where everything gets solved and then everyone lives happily ever after. But let’s not rush into this so quickly. This will be more interesting if you know what precedes this. You’ll understand everything and have a clearer view after everything has been explained.
How many times do you look back on something you did and regret ever doing it? Now put that number against the number of times you remember not doing something and regretting ever not having done it. Spin around three times, look in a mirror and repeat your own name seven times. This is where it begins.
Three cars speed past. Someone walking a dog bends down to clean up after it. People are all over the place and it’s a little too hot to really want to be doing anything. It’s Detroit in January, or September if the calendar wasn’t flipped all around. Somewhere a bum asks for change and somewhere else someone empties an ashtray full of pennies from a car into the street. Irony.
I’m not kidding. I, I, I promise. I will shoot you in the back of your head.”
This is the climax. This is almost the end. The part of the story where everything gets solved and then everyone lives happily ever after. But let’s not rush into this so quickly. This will be more interesting if you know what precedes this. You’ll understand everything and have a clearer view after everything has been explained.
How many times do you look back on something you did and regret ever doing it? Now put that number against the number of times you remember not doing something and regretting ever not having done it. Spin around three times, look in a mirror and repeat your own name seven times. This is where it begins.
Three cars speed past. Someone walking a dog bends down to clean up after it. People are all over the place and it’s a little too hot to really want to be doing anything. It’s Detroit in January, or September if the calendar wasn’t flipped all around. Somewhere a bum asks for change and somewhere else someone empties an ashtray full of pennies from a car into the street. Irony.