Dear Diary,
The cat stood at the door. She asked to go out, or I assumed she did from her meowing. I opened the door. She walked away. I’m not playing this game. The door is now open. She doesn’t realize that the cold doesn’t bother me. For a brief moment I reveled in the thought that the cat does not understand Vampires. Then she jumped on the table and bit my hand. She was purring. I do not understand her game. I hate cats.
~ Vlad
Dear Diary,
My neighbor took me to a Kings Game. He told me that I was to dress casual and to wear purple if I had it. I wore a purple dress shirt with a black tie and black slacks. The ladies had to rub my arm and smile. Women are so forward now. They said I looked gorgeous.
We arrived at the stadium…
View original post 1,398 more words
West Coast Review 
I found a handmade book in my old VW hippy van which was published by a predecessor of the Review. It was called “Excerpts From My Journal” about a 1960’s hippies spiritual experiences. There’s another copy at the California State Library.
My copy was put in the van when I loaned the vehicle to someone who eventually allowed me to retrieve it ten years later. I towed it home and patched the three inch crankcase hole. The book was under the spare tire behind the seat.
I still have the yellow van and occasionally still see she who I loaned it to. I never married her. I married the little 9 year old (I was 14) girl I fell in love with three and a half lifetimes ago. I looked and looked for her and we did meet again. “Where have you been for so long?”, we said.