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April 21, 2008

Monday

He offers you a drink.

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From The Comments: Barb

He offered me a drink.

I seized the glass, slamming the shot down before he changed his mind.

“I thought this was a treatment center?” I asked.

“Sometimes we offer prophylactic support during detox.” replied the in-take nurse, stashing his stethoscope around his burly neck.

“Am I that far gone?” I trembled as withdrawal set in.

He scribbled data onto my chart. “We treat all addictions here.” The pat reply was meant to calm, but didn’t. “Now, questions about your addiction history.”

I braced for the tough part as my therapy began.

“When did you write your first 100-word story?”

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LJ: The Terrible Thirst

A man rocking, shaking in the corner. A little girl, dirty and frightened. I watched intently.

He actually lasted long enough that I had to feed the girl -- I did not expect that. I thought he would break quicker.

In time, I heard a low growl coming from his throat, and saw his trembling grow all the worse. Finally he could withstand no longer, grabbed the girl, and sank his new-found fangs into her neck. She screamed, briefly.

When she was dead, I approached again, nodding satisfaction. "No hint of garlic, brother," I whispered. "Just the way it should taste."

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