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December 30, 2019 - January 2, 2020
“I’ll get that,” I say, holding in a sneeze. I cannot imagine why no one wants to work here, picking books up off the floor all day is delightful.
Ofelia Castaneda-Gutierrez liked this
too bushy to be called brows. More like eyelid mustaches.
All five hundred and eighty-two societies worldwide have signed a pact to obey a common set of laws, and one of them is that a vampire in good standing will not be denied access to another’s territory when matters of business or employment are involved.
I snarl down at what used to be Clive now packed in a sealed chicken soup can. It’s so bloody undignified. They could’ve at least put him in a nice can of artichoke hearts or black olives. But this is the way he must travel back home—in an inconspicuous, completely sealed can inside my luggage—per our rules.
It’s going to take me another hundred years to grasp the concept that privacy is dead.
Ofelia Castaneda-Gutierrez liked this
are extremely ruthless and old-school. They love rules, they love enforcing them, and they love breaking them because they are like royalty and no one will dare stand up to them. All this means that the stronger you are, the more you can get away with. The idea of justice is simply a façade meant to lull the masses and keep the peace. Underneath it all, we are still vampires, searching for angles and looking out for number one.
“What in carnations?”
Sunshine quickly dissipates vampire odors.
seppuku

