Lying over her I closed my eyes and sank my fangs into her sinewy neck. She didnt struggle as I began to feed on her. I could taste the bitter alkalin... of the heroin in her blood, but the flavor of her wasted soul was worse. I was flooded with the memories of her childhood, with the visions of her life with my father, and with her joy at my birth. I was washed in the love and laughter that I myself remembered of life with my family. Her despair when my father had died nearly overwhelmed me. As. ” I thought about it and said, “Well, they used to stick a glass thermometer in there to take my temperature till I turned eleven.” “OK. Now be totally honest with me, how did it feel when it was inside you?” he probed earnestly. My mind drifted back to my childhood doctor’s visits and my mother taking temps in my bottom at home. Then came the realization I was scared to admit. “It felt nice.” I reluctantly admitted. “Well, what they’re doing in those photos feels way better than getting a. More

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