The night she had been waiting for was almost here.įor most of the last eight weeks, time had been going at a crawl, but in these final couple of evenings it had switched things up and flipped into catapult mode. Such a mundane action, done many times in a week, a month, a year-but nonetheless, for one particular instance, a great division between before and after occurred.Īs Paradise, blooded daughter of Abalone, First Adviser to Wrath, son of Wrath, sire of Wrath, King of all vampires, sat back in her office chair, she stared at the now-black screen in front of her. Some graduations were marked by the simple and the everyday, the nothing-special-like a person reaching out to a Dell monitor and hitting the little blue button on the lower right corner of the computer screen. Some of these important markers of the next stage of life had no caps and gowns, no orchestras playing the humans’ “Pomp and Circumstance.” There was no stage to walk across or diploma to hang on your wall.
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