Tag Archives: emotions

Vampire Boys Of Summer (revamped) Ep. 7

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7: Konnichiwa

It was dark out but the house was lit up like Christmas. It seemed every light was on and I could see movement behind the curtains. Lots and lots of movement. In fact, it looked like my new neighbors were throwing a party. The weird thing was just a few moments ago when I looked out, there didn’t seem to be any activity at all. Now I stood there on my front porch unsure of what to do. I couldn’t very well waltz into the middle of a throw down and stake someone through their heart.

The night was oppressive and quiet. Even in my yard it was like a cemetery, still and silent. I stepped off my porch and walked across the yard. My eyes still on the house, I could see all kinds of partying going on inside and yet there was no sound, not one single muffled noise. Then a door opened on the side of the house facing me. Loud rock music interrupted the quiet with a cacophony of melodic noise. B’z. Las Vegas. I knew the song, though a large part of it wasn’t even in English. I spent many long hours streaming music from Japanese radio stations and youtube on my laptop, never thinking I’d have neighbors who would enjoy the same thing. And in such a loud manner, too.

With the door still open, I could hear partygoers shouting out the lyrics, “Won’t you come with me? Ah-ha-ha!” Then the door shut again. A figure was now wrapped in the night on the side patio. I stood still and watched them, wondering if they had seen me. The figure let out a sigh and tilted his head to the heavens. It was a clear night. The moon and stars seemed to illuminate his face. It was the boy I had seen the night before. I was a little closer now so it was easy to confirm I had been right in the fact he was Asian. He wore what looked like a schoolboy’s uniform, the kind they sport in the harem animes I watch. Nice slacks, white shirt, blue blazer. He could have just stepped out of “Uta No Prince Sama.” I waited to see if he would suddenly break out into a song. He didn’t. He was too enraptured with the night sky as if he were cataloguing the stars in his head.

He put a hand up to his head and ran his fingers through his shoulder length blond hair. It looked out of place as most Asians I’d seen had black hair and dark eyes. His hair didn’t looked like it had been dyed either. No, it looked like the color had been sucked out of his locks, leaving him with a pale blond that if two shades lighter would have been white. Even his skin looked paler, but not sickly. His face was smooth as if he hadn’t even started shaving yet. When he turned his head in my direction and spotted me, I saw his eyes were the color of dark almonds.

There was nothing I could do after being seen. Sure, I could have charged him with my vampire stake in hand. Or run screaming for help. But I did neither of these. Instead, I took a bold step over the threshold of his yard and approached him. Just like earlier that day, it was like walking into a vacuum. I could feel the crunch of the grass and twigs beneath my feet but heard no sound. I wondered if he spoke if it would be a silent whisper for me to try and decipher. I came to a stop at the edge of the patio. In three steps I could be up there with him, but something told me to stop where I was and remember why I had been coming over here to begin with.

“Hi,“ I said.

He looked at me with a blank gaze, so I tried again.

“Um, Hello?”

Again, nothing registered on his face. His stare was so empty I thought he could be a corpse. Of course, Vampires are generally that anyway.

“Konnichiwa?”

He smiled. “Konnichiwa.”

This he understood. I only knew it from watching anime. On there it pretty much meant hello or greetings.

I pointed to my house. “I’m your neighbor. Nora.”

He looked over there and nodded. “Ah, Nola.”

“Nora,“ I corrected.

Again a nod. “Nola.”

This was going nowhere. I tried something different and a little closer. I pointed behind him to his house, where the party was going full tilt. “Having a party?”

He looked at me even more confused, then smiled, nodding his head vigorously. “Nola.”

I sighed. This was just great. It appeared he neither understood nor spoke English. No matter if you looked at him as a hot guy or vampire, in both areas you were screwed. Trying to figure out if he had the tattoo was going to be near impossible, unless I just reached out and ripped his shirt open. Despite my anger over invasion of privacy it seemed like a nice idea. After all, he was very cute, and his white school boy shirt had two buttons already unfastened at the top. I could see his collar bone and the very beginnings of his chest, but not enough to tell if he was tattooed there.

He must have noticed my gaze because he looked at me with a little smile. He touched his head and said something like “Koko omotemuki.”

Now I was the one not understanding. “Huh?” I looked around to see if there was anyone nearby to help translate, but the party was inside not out here. “English?” I asked in desperation.

“Ah, English,“ he nodded, and then shook his head back and forth. I took this to mean no.

It was ridiculous, but just my luck. Meet hot guy, can’t talk to him. It figures. So, in the most desperate way of thinking I pulled out all the stops. Pointing at him, I asked, “Vampire?”

He scrunched up his nose and squinted his eyes almost to the point of closing. He shrugged and shook his head back and forth again. Clearly he didn’t understand.

“Filthy perverted bloodsucker?”

The confusion on his face was laughable.

“Oh to hell with this,” I said, and spun on my heel to walk off in exasperation. I had made it halfway to my yard when he called out to me.

“Understand English fine.”

I quickly turned back to him, my face flushing about fifty shades of red.

“I was just having some fun with you,“ he smiled.

I noticed his lips were moist and his teeth perfect white. I wanted to punch him in the face. Instead, I gave him my fiercest look. “Screw you. You understand that?” and stalked off so mad I could have pulled the stake out the back of my pants and stabbed him from there.

Continue to Ep. 8

Vampire Boys Of Summer” 2018 Paul D Aronson. All Rights Reserved.

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The Train (flash fiction?)

The elevated train goes by outside my apartment window, it’s vibration on the track stirring me from my dream. Gone are the sprawling green meadows, snow capped mountains, and clear rolling rivers. Instead I am awakened to industry, crowds, and the fact I will soon be boarding the train that will carry me through the boroughs on my way to a job behind four walls, where I never feel the sun on my face or the breeze running through my hair. 
I am sick with longing. I watch videos on YouTube of other places, views from other trains, and wish to be there in quaint villages, walking on single lane roads by farmhouses and pastures, saying hello to people I meet and their livestock, as I worry about nothing except how hard the rain is supposed to fall tomorrow. No worry about the noise from the people upstairs, deadlines from supervisors who don’t work for their promotions, or the steady vibratory hum from the train outside my window on its way to its one hundred and fifty-seven stops in the city. 
I’m twenty-nine years old. Life is not supposed to be like this. I don’t know what I expected it to be, but not this. I look at all my Facebook friends and they seem so happy, as if everything is perfect, and yet I’m here behind these dull four walls I can barely afford, being awakened by the click-clack of the train, reminding me to get up and go to a job that I hate, dodging through crowds of strangers I don’t want to know. I just wish for once that when I board the train it would take me somewhere else. Somewhere different. Somewhere more adventurous than this…
By Paul D Aronson.

“In The Hours ‘Fore The Dawn”

In the hours ‘fore the dawn,
‘tween shadows and light,
I cower from the daybreak,
And mourn the ending of night.

When dreams flicker and fade,
Like a silent movie reel,
My sanctuary is broken,
And the fantasy unfulfilled.

The real world screams loud,
A cacophony of truth,
And I cry with the lonely,
Of ripe age and of youth.

For I don’t want to wake,
To find my dream is gone,
I always dread these moments,
In the hours ‘fore the dawn.

By Paul D Aronson. 2002. All Rights Reserved.