The vampires were back. It used to be they would only come into the cemetery at night. They’d smoke their dope and leave a mess of plastic snack bags and styrofoam coffee cups for Gravey and me to clean up in the morning. If the moon was full, they might light some candles on top a grave and dance around it with their shirts off. It was mostly harmless stuff and unless they were too loud, Anibal figured the best policy was to ignore them. But Anibal didn’t know these vampires. He didn’t go to high school with them. And he certainly didn’t spend Monday morning perched on the Herlihy obelisk, his arm around granite angel titties for balance, all to scrape at hardened puddles of wax with a credit card. Evil wax, most likely. He wasn’t the one who saw two vampires, half-naked, making out under the willow tree at ten in the morning...

The Feast of Saint Eichatadt

Pete Coco

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