Original-Lit

 The love of my life for seventy years was finally slipping away from me. She was just a frail shadow of the girl I'd been so tempted to kill, that night she first invited me into her home. When she spoke it was a different story; she had all the sardonic verve as that femme fatale in 1940. Back then, during the Blitz, London suffered an air raid almost every night. A creature of those dark hours, I stalked the alleys and ruinous streets looking for charitable young women to let me into their homes. And then, as they slept, I would feed on their blood until they could offer no more. If I had done that to my darling Vivian, I would never hav

We hate the cold, and the hot as well. Scarce are the inhabitants, of the extremes. We seek the elusive middle ground, devoting great time and effort. We seek it also within, that gentle soothing warmth. we find it through others, through action or word, or at times just being near. It is also in our accomplishments, in our sense of worth, be it in service to others, or the completion of a marathon. I have found this warmth only comes, when we are content with what we have. So now i ask, what is your warmth?