I knew a vampire once.
He had dark hair and pale skin and his clothes were a midnight blue. He usually woke up just as the last rays of the sun were winking out on the horizon. Give or take a few minutes.
My friend wasn’t especially adherent to the strict regimen of vampires – bloodsucking, for one, was not on his list of to-do’s. But then, strictly speaking, he wasn’t a traditional vampire. He was a cop on the graveyard shift.
What separated my friend from countless people working the night shift was this unique decision: He changed his …