Anthony put on his robe as he left the bedroom. Vague lights from the Brooklyn Bridge outside his window passed through the shades casting macabre shadows across the living room.
He sat heavily onto his grandfather’s old upholstered chair and let himself enjoy the fatigue that came over him after making love to Dolingren. She was not an easy woman to be with but the joys most often outweighed the anguish.
Even at this late hour, the sound of traffic came into his apartment unabated. It was life. The vampire in his bed was death but she was also ecstasy.








