i have this recurring dream of vampires flying through the windy night and i'm one of them but i run or rather fly away. we generally begin in some dim grassy plane and im waiting for you to come where you said to come only the werewolves and the banshees get there first and i chase the instinct to run. i make it home to my beloved and find myself asleep beside his tiny six-year old head as a door slams and my mother's voice echoes through the hall: you forgot to lock the doors, get out of bed. but no one's really home and i wake and light the hall, to calm my fears of dreams crossing over and the living--undead.