I crept into the cemetery after dark through a narrow
opening between the fence and the bushes. It was creepy, but my rent was due
and my landlord was not too fond of people of my persuasion; vampire
photographers.
I stumbled over the rough ground past tombstones which
glowed pale under the strobe of the moonlight filtering though the threatening
clouds. It was a bad night to be entering such a place, but I'd heard rumors
through the Twitterverse that vampires frequented this particular mausoleum.
And if they were there, I needed to immortalize them in digital to pay my rent.
The tabloids paid well for "authentic" vampire pictures, even if the
vampire was not the hunky sort.
The skull partially buried in mulch but still managing to
grin at me gave me pause; and I wondered if this was the right profession for
me. But in my biz, it was produce or perish, right? So I crept on as stealthily
as possible between the decaying gravestones while trying to find my location
on the little map of the cemetery the kind lady at the desk had given me that
morning. I kicked myself now for not having taken the time to figure out the
right spot in daylight, but the map had made it look deceptively easy.
I almost died when I heard the eerie moaning sound of
squeaking metal. I froze in place unwilling to alert any listeners to my
presence, even while knowing that if it were the vampire I sought, my
heart-beat would be a loud pounding bass drum in the otherwise deserted area.
Tune in again for the next segment.later this week.. (copyright Leslie Ormandy)
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