Wolf’s Vampire Date
By Stella Hayne
Copyright 2012, Stella Hayne
Ted sat alone in the little café on a side street in the city’s lower East side. Not a bad little place. Most days it was full of customers. He’d been visiting for a long time now, and the place had been growing in popularity, like all places of this sort seem to do.
Small time and only known by the elite few for a while, but eventually everyone and their mother finds out and drops in to check things out, much to the detriment of the regulars’ experiences. Such was the way of things, Ted thought to himself; enjoy what you can while you can, because society or fate or some other unknown will soon rear its ugly head and take something away from you. Yeah, it was cynical, but Ted had been around the block and knew that more often than not it was how things went. But it was a Wednesday night near closing time, and for now he was the only patron. For now. He checked his watch again. Half past midnight. The place closed at one in the morning. She knew that. If she weren’t here soon, he’d have to assume that she wasn’t coming.
He sipped at his coffee again, by now ice cold and bitter. The bitter he didn’t mind. But cold coffee had never been his thing. He never could understand how people drank it iced. What was the point? Coffee should be as hot as possible; it was supposed to wake you up, wasn’t it? Cold coffee was like jumping into an icy river; a wake up of a different nature entirely. Or for that matter, how did anyone drink beer warm? Even the dark beers. Warm beer just made his stomach turn. That’s why the Brits lost the war, Ted mused; soldiers so unhappy at having to drink all their beer at room temperature had nothing to fight for!