Status Updates From Cold Wind

started at 9.26pm

By tomorrow the snow would melt, the cameras would work. But tonight it was still a white world where Deer Woman ran toward daybreak, and I had someone to hunger for.

Deer Woman ran like a rumor, like the wind, but I was made for this, and though I hadn’t hunted one of my kind for an age, had thought I had taken the last a lifetime ago, she had never run from one like me. I was older. Much older. And at short range, cats are faster than deer.

She didn’t understand. I’d been a myth before she was born.

The city was another world in the snow.

Music traditions flitted from one place to another acquiring heft and solidity as different cultures adopted them. Over the years they became majestic and apparently eternal. They never were.

The music, at least, did not make me feel like an outsider. It was an old friend.

It was one of the most pernicious fallacies, common the world over: old ways are best. But old ways can outlast their usefulness. Old ways can live on pointlessly in worlds that have no room for them.

You can tell a lot about a culture from its metaphors: the world is fragile, breakable, spillable as an egg.

Even in cities a mammalian body can’t escape the deep rhythms imposed by the solar cycle and reinforced by myth.

Indeed!

But old ways can outlast their usefulness. Old ways can live on pointlessly in worlds that have no room for them.

Is this a vampire reimagining? Also, this weirdly fits: http://youtu.be/14H8OzTzne4

"But the old ways can outlast their usefulness"