SHORT STORIES
di AA.VV
OCTOBER 28, 1967
by Jay Marvin
A hook shaped pipe a saucer like object attached at the end
stuck in the middle a single bulb it shines down on a faded
sign whispering gas and food at the foot of the highway
behind the glass case candy bars and smokes look up with
vacant eyes their many colors faded from the desert's hot
sun and lack of foot prints ninety miles away steel and
chrome compete with concrete and sad memories all of us
gazing at the same sun waiting for the black comfort of
night where we'll stare at the same moon an occasional semi
breaking concentration in a symphony of fumes and noise I
string the rope over a wooden two by four weather worn put
up by hands long gone I stand on a milk crate ready to swim
in liquid fire will the breast stroke work or should I try
the crawl? I kick the box out and dangle until the first
rays of the sun greet my swollen and blue body careful
cutting me down my soul's resting near by like an ugly wet
animal free from its egg.
28 OTTOBRE 1967
(Traduzione di Vittorio Curtoni)
Un tubo a forma di gancio un oggetto simile a un piatto
attaccato all'estremita' infilata in mezzo un'unica
lampadina proietta la sua luce su un'insegna sbiadita che
sussurra benzina e cibo ai piedi dell' autostrada dietro la
vetrinetta barre di dolciumi e bionde alzano uno sguardo di
occhi vacui coi molti colori sbiaditi dal sole caldo del
deserto e mancanza di impronte di piedi a novanta miglia di
distanza acciaio e cromo competono con cemento e tristi
ricordi tutti noi guardiamo lo stesso sole in attesa del
nero conforto della notte quando fisseremo la stessa luna
un'occasionale concentrazione spezzata a meta' in una
sinfonia di fumi e rumore io passo la corda attorno a
un'asse di legno logorata dalle intemperie messa li' da mani
scomparse da tanto tempo sono in piedi su una cassa per
bottiglie di latte pronto a nuotare in un fuoco liquido
funzionera' lo stile libero oppure dovrei provare col crawl?
lancio via con un calcio la scatola e penzolo finche' i
primi raggi di sole salutano il mio corpo gonfio e blu
attenti a tirarmi giu' la mia anima se ne sta qui vicino
come un brutto umido animale libero dal suo guscio.
THERE ARE NO VAMPIRES
by Sheryl Hannah
November 30, 1993
Dear Margaret,
I met Michael at the Bucharest airport three weeks ago this
Sunday. He stayed with me until this past Friday here in
the tiny village of Solta. Caterina and I tried our best to
make him as comfortable as possible. Our village is located
at the base of the Bihor mountains directly below Count
Dracula's castle. The inhabitants of the village are
terrified of the vampire's blighting. The children gather
garlic buds daily to be placed at the windows. Upon every
door there is a painted cross, at every throat a metal one.
The residents shudder within their homes in fear of the
vampire's pervading as soon as the Sun goes down. I being a
physician, don't believe in such things as vampires,
werewolves or ghosts. My servant Livio is an old man who
believes in the folklore of this province of Transylvania.
He told Michael about the legend of Count Dracula's castle.
MIchael then begged me to take him up into the mountains
where Dracula's castle is. I reluctantly agreed and hired
two gypsie guides to take us up into the mountains. Before
we left on our journey I had Livio supply us with
flashlights. Because there is no electricity up in the
castle.
We left on Friday which was the 26th of November. We left
at dawn and we didn't reach the castle until the evening
when the Sun had went down. A storm suddenly appeared out
of nowhere when we had reached the castle. The two gypsies
were frightened and left us up there all alone. I opened
the old heavy wooden door of the castle. Michael was
excited and ran inside immediately and ran to the basement
searching for Count Dracula's coffin. He left me alone with
my flashlight. I wandered about the premises and found and
old sealed off room that had many valuable trinkets. The
wooden door of the room must have been warped from the
dampness because I could not open the door to leave the
room. I remained there in that room until the following
morning without food or water. It was quite an ordeal!
When I was able to open the door I left and went immediately
to the basement to find Michael.
It was so dark and cold in the old castle it felt like a
refrigerator. I found Michael passed out on the basement
floor. He was as pale as a ghost with two puncture holes
right above the jugular. I searched for a pulse but there
was none.
I tried to see if his heart was still beating it was not.
Michael had apparently died from an excessive loss of blood
through those two puncture wounds. I also found that there
were two coffins down there they looked like they were made
for the Count and someone else during the late 1400's. When
I reached the village I notified the police about Michael's
death. The constable and another officer told me that they
would go to the castle to find out who or what had killed
poor Michael. They also said that I was not allowed to
leave town because I was a suspect for his murder. I
accompanied them to Count Dracula's castle the following
Sunday. When we reached the castle the constable knocked on
the door and a strange man wearing a long black cape
answered the door. He claimed to be Count Dracula. I found
that to be absurd for the real Count Dracula had died many
centuries ago.
The proof being that there were two coffins in the basement
one of them probably containing the remains of the real
Count. We assumed that this man was probably some madman
who had wondered up into the castle. We searched all the
rooms that we could find for Michael's body. We found
nothing. We then left and returned to the village. The
constable released me of being a suspect of Michael's murder
because we didn't find his body. The constable believes
that I may have thought he was dead when he was still alive.
He also believes that Michael may have hit his head while
falling on the floor and that he may be suffering from some
form of amnesia. He thinks that Michael has returned to the
village and may be staying in one of the inns down there.
He will do a further investigation this week to make sure
that Michael's not wandering around down here in the village
with amnesia.
The odd thing about all of this is that it seems like his
body just vanished into thin air. Last night when I went to
sleep I dreamed that Michael was standing over me while I
was sleeping and he woke me up to assure me that he was
alright. Suddenly he bent down and bit me in the neck.
When I awoke this morning I noticed two puncture holes right
above my jugular. How could that be if I was dreaming? If
that's true then that means that Michael is not really dead?
But I checked his pulse and heart beat up at the castle
there was none. He's medically dead.
I will have Caterina notify you as soon as the police gives
me a report on the whereabouts of Michael. I will not be
able to do it for I am feeling rather weak at this moment.
I will finish this letter to you and then return to my bed
to rest. Surely you don't believe in such things as
vampires do you Margaret? Well, I will know for sure
tonight whether they really exist or not for I too will
become a vampire. I can't believe I am accepting the fact
that vampires do exist. I will say goodbye for now my dear
cousin, Margaret.
Your loving cousin,
Dr. George Gheria
1344 Transylvania Road
Province of Transylvania,
Solta, Rumania
