Sunday

My house is a pit. I haven't felt able to clean it for two weeks. I wonder if I could just gather a few belongings and move somewhere else. Surely the new owners would dig out the clutter.

Still not well, but much better. I'm looking forward to work tomorrow -- not because I've fallen back in love with my job, but because I will be out in the world instead of huddled in this house.

Will spring ever come? I'm ready for sun and lots of it.

I sure appreciated everyone's prayers and comments of concern. They lifted my spirits during some particularly uncomfortable days. Thank you.

I added a new blog to the Blogs of Interest: Kristen's Now Or Never. Kristen is into yoga, tofu, libraries, Sudoku, marching bands, and many, many other nifty things. In other words, she's very cool. Check out her blog.

And now I'm going to go to bed. But here is an excerpt from Darkness, Oklahoma.

From Darkness, Oklahoma

What August Wicker hadn't told the others was that the man had said that the vampire would kill the Bone Queen. The man had said that Substance had Chosen August Wicker. Chosen?! A vampire?!

Even as injured as he had been, August had tried to argue. But the man insisted. "Substance Chose you for this task, and you will accomplish it," the man said before giving August other bag of healing blood. The man left soon after, leaving August with only a blurred impression of a tall man and the scent of a human.

But this was one time that Substance would be disappointed, August vowed silently. The Queen was a major power. She was stronger, faster, and more powerful than a vampire could ever be. In the ancient battle, she had been one of Void's mightiest warriors. She would crush August easily.

August sighed and shook his head. He would miss Darkness. This small Oklahoma town had given him a good life, but all things end. Nothing lasts forever.

And perhaps that also applied to vampires? August paused in his packing. How long did he intend to live? When would the years hang so heavy on his shoulders that he would be crushed? If he still believed he was young, why had he chosen the persona of August Wicker, an elderly librarian? He had told himself that he would attract less attention, but was that real reason?

In his long life, he had killed and tortured men and women. As a sup to his conscience, he had never killed children, but hadn't he left many as orphans? And in centuries past, that was often a death sentence. He could claim no great mercies in his life. He was what he was. He had chosen this life when confronted by death and passed over beyond death's domain. As long as he was wise.

So now he would run. Run into the shadows of another city or a new country. Carve a new territory, perhaps by displacing another vampire in a bloody war. He didn't want to do it, but he wasn't going to die. He would not pass into judgment. Darkness, Oklahoma was doomed, its inhabitants already dead. What did he care? In a hundred years, he would not remember their names.

Yet he sat on his bed for a long time, watching the shadows lengthen as regret curled around his bitter heart.

Copyright 2008 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved.