Wednesday, January 06, 2010
A Child's Cleverness
Sunlight, fire, pointy bits of wood, beheading... Harold tried to think of all the ways a vampire might die and then imagine Gillian in that situation. Every scenario came out with Gillian alive and wise-cracking a footnote as she sank into her coffin as the sun breached the eastern horizon. Harold wiped away a tear as he stood in front of the empty tomb. It had been three months with no word from her. Was she still alive?
"What's the matter Daddy?" Lucy's voice startled him. "Why are you sad?"
Harold looked down at the innocent face of his daughter. At seven years old, she didn't remember her real mother and had been spoon-fed on stories of her. It was too risky to tell a child her mother was a vampire. Or had been. Another tear escaped.
"There's nothing wrong," he said. "I just miss your mum."
"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"
Harold smiled. "You could give me a hug," he said.
"There's no point in standing here anyway," said Lucy as she allowed he father to wrap his arms around her. "This tomb's been empty for weeks. The lady went away."