Southern Discomfort

The Big Picture

wherein nothing much is revealed

Laylah kicked off her shoes and headed for the refrigerator to down a can of Cheerwine, not even bothering to pour it in a glass. A flicker of light caught her eye and she looked up and saw the angel sun-catcher hanging at the kitchen window. She blew out a stream of air, ruffling the wisps of hair on her forehead. “I know I’m supposed to be patient and wait for the big picture, but I’m really worried about Rosario. She really thinks those oranges will help. And maybe it will, for people like her, who don’t want to, you know. Eat people.”

Laylah shuddered. “But those other vampires? C’mon, giving up people for oranges? Nobody likes oranges that much. Well, maybe Mister Avett. He seems like a man who enjoys fruit. I wonder what he turns into? Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. Giving up feeling a pulse beneath your lips, the warm blood trickling down your throat?” Her fingers trailed down her neck. “I know they don’t sparkle!”

Walking to the living room, Laylah picked up a framed picture of her and her father, Hektor, his arm around her gangly, pre-teen shouilders, smiles on both of their faces as they posed in front of an old church. “Poor Rosario. How horrible to have a father like that. I don’t trust him one bit.”



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