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Just to be clear, right – I don’t believe in fate, or karma, or destiny, or getting what’s coming to you.   In all the years I’ve been hanging around observing people getting worked up about that shit, I’ve never seen anything to convince me of it.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s all fucking abitrary and random as hell.   Bad stuff can happen to ‘good’ people, things don’t turn out the way they’re expected to, and I get away with all kinds of horrors I shouldn’t be able to if this were anything approaching a moral world.   As you can imagine – I’m okay with that.

However, I will say this.   Even if there isn’t any fucking overarching plan to it all, part of the randomness is some kind of inherent fiendish joy in irony and fucked-up coincidences.   Fucking Murphy and his law – it’s the only thing that really governs the world.

So when I wrote to Py yesterday and said how well everything was going, you know what that means, right?   I was just fucking asking for trouble.

See – I jump on a train to go downtown today after school.   Harmony had kickboxing (she’s been trying to coax me to come along), so I thought I’d go see a movie or something, and then taunt her with it afterwards instead.  

I amused myself on the journey by playing the time-traveller game.   It involves coming up to strangers just before a station, and asking in panicky way what year it is.   When they tell you, you cry “Fuck – I’m too early!”, and spring off the train and run down the platform… and board another carriage – and play again.   (The looks you leave on their faces are priceless – you get bonus points if they’re so engaged that they call shit out after you – “Wait!”   “What do you mean?”   “What the fuck was that?”…)

So I’ve just played a final round, and jumped off at my actual destination to hurry away – when I hear something called, right?   But it’s coming from down the platform


“Jonathon?   JONATHON?   What the fuck?”


There was a split second.   I could have rushed on – the call came from a distance, I had my hoodie up: I looked non-descript enough.   If I hadn’t stopped, it would have been presumed a case of mistaken identity, or a lost opportunity because I ‘didn’t hear’ – just one of those things.   But while I have all kinds of nice finely-tuned instincts in my line of work, the old human ones still linger.   So if someone calls your name, you don’t think.

You just fucking turn around.


And when the sea of crossing commuters parts as one wave leaves and the other has the train door close behind it, there’s suddenly a long bare expanse of concrete and space in front of me along the platform.

And at the other end of it stands Kane.





  1. oooo, this just got a lot more interesting. I actually love how you built suspense before mentioning Kane. Good writing, vampire.

  2. Heh… talk about awkward. Can’t wait to hear what happened next.

    And I agree, your writing is excellent.

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