MURMÚRIOS DE LISBOA CXIV

The Vampire and The Werewolf - Part XI

Werewolf is Game.She thought is was unfair to the werewolf, see. So she decided to amend the situation. She wanted the werewolf in the game. After all, it is a competition and right now only the vampire is aware of everything. It’s not fair.

So she sent the poem to the werewolf. Literally. By real mail. She sent it. It is probably the most foolish, crazy, insane thing she has ever done in her entire life. Sending the poem to the werewolf is her crossing of the World Trade Center. She couldn’t stand it anymore. To think about it and not do it. She almost went mad for months, until she finally decided to just throw the thinking out the window and be done with it. She sent the poem, with a short letter. The letter said the following:

“Hello,

I wrote this poem for you. Because life is too short, I don’t feel like keeping it in the drawer. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. I don’t know if you’re a Jedi or if you’re a Sith.

Am I crazy? Probably.

An idiot? Most surely.

But don’t call the police because I am harmless.

I just want you to read this and I want you to enjoy it. You can do whatever you like with it – save it in your heart or crunch it and throw it away. It depends wether you’re a Jedi or a Sith.

If our paths never cross unless at a distance, may the force be with you.”

Imediately after posting it, she felt light. She felt as if a burden had been finally lifted off her shoulders. But now, a few hours later, she’s in a panic. She needs air. She can’t breath. She doesn’t believe what she did. Inspite of this, she doesn’t regret it, surprisingly.

Now it’s up to him. The ball is on his side. He can ignore it or he can do something about it. Whatever he decides, the werewolf is game. It’s only fair, because, after all, she does want him to win more than anything else.