Renfield and The Churchillian Bottle of Brandy

November 11, 2017 at 4:42 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, Humour, News, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Renfield and The Churchillian Bottle of Brandy

It had recently come to the attention of Renfield R. Renfield MP that the last bottle of brandy that Sir Winston Churchill had ever purchased prior to his death was still unopened (thus giving some idea of the large collection of bottles of brandy that Churchill must have had).

Renfield thought that as the 21st Century Churchill, he really should be in possession of the last bottle of brandy that Winnie owned.

The bottle of brandy was to be auctioned off at Sotheby’s Auction House in London.

Renfield was unable to make it to the auction in person so he hired Dashwood Forrest the Oscar Wilde admiring owner of the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London to act as his agent.

Forrest attended the Sotheby’s auction along with his living dead manservant Mulligan the Irish zombie.

Unlike most zombies, Mulligan the Irish zombie never bothered eating brains seeing as how he never made use of brains when he was alive so why should he start now that he was dead?

Instead Mulligan relied on Guinness stout and Jameson whiskey for his sustenance- the same liquid sustenance that kept him going when he was alive and the same sustenance that kept him going now that he was one of the living dead.

Besides mortals kind of got pissed off at zombies for wanting to eat their brains although admittedly in this decade of heavy social media usage, the objections were no longer as vigorous as they used to be.

Mulligan was useful at the auction because he frightened off all the other bidders who wanted to bid on the Churchillian bottle of brandy.

Dashwood Forrest won the bidding and presented the bottle of brandy to a very happy Renfield R. Renfield .

Renfield sat in his Parliamentary office with his bottle of brandy, his recently acquired marble bust of Sir Winston Churchill and his recently acquired oil painting of Sir Winston Churchill (that hung on the far wall adjacent to his desk).

Renfield opened the bottle of brandy, poured some into his glass and then held it up to the painting in a toast.

Sir Winston Churchill then walked out of the painting and sat in the chair across from Renfield.

“You know what the saddest part about being a ghost is for me?” Churchill sighed, “Not being able to smoke a cigar or drink a brandy.”

Renfield looked down at his glass of brandy.

It must be pretty potent stuff Renfield thought to himself.

He hadn’t even took a sip of it yet and already he was starting to see things.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday November 11th
2017.

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Ghosts of Duckly Nephews’ Namesakes Plus Vladimir Putin Too

November 3, 2017 at 7:38 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Satire, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , )

Ghosts of Duckly Nephews’ Namesakes Plus Vladimir Putin Too

With the arrival of the Egyptian god Thoth to our present spatial/temporal dimension this past August of 2017, various spirits had left their appointed places in the Underworld much to the Greek god Hades’ chagrin.

Among those who had left were the ghosts of former Louisiana governor Huey Long, former twice running Republican Presidential candidate of the 1940s Tom Dewey and Western Canadian Metis rebel leader Louis Riel.

The ghosts of Huey, Dewey and Louis chose to haunt the White House.

They had great fun with Donald Trump calling him Uncle Donald.

“Hi Uncle Donald,” they’d shout as they entered the Oval Office, “it’s Huey, Dewey and Louis here.”

. . .

Russian President Vladimir Putin was getting indigestion in the middle of eating his borscht soup.

Not so much the soup itself was causing the problem but what the Russian leader was watching on television.

British Transhumanist MP Renfield R. Renfield was standing on the steps of the Westminster Parliament in London and giving his opinion of the crisis in Spain 🇪🇸 to reporters, “Spanish Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy with his recent arrest of most of the Catalan cabinet is showing that he’s learned a lot from Russian President Vladimir Putin – throw in jail all those political leaders you’re in disagreement with.”

Putin immediately summoned the leaders of the FSB to his office.

“Well,” Putin sipped his samovar brewed tea with honey and sliced lemon, “this newly elected British MP Renfield R. Renfield is becoming a real problem for me. As we know, Donald Trump won’t succeed in his attempt to make America great again. Particularly now that he’s being haunted by the ghosts of Huey, Dewey and Louis.”

Putin seemed to know everything that was going on in the current White House.

“Now very early this year, I reminded Britain that they’re no longer a great world power,” Putin finished his tea, “and then in one of those ironic twists of history for which history is famous, no sooner had I said that then British Prime Minister Theresa May called a snap election and this Renfield character was elected to Parliament. I have had dealings with Renfield in the past when he was the Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering for Set Enterprises in London. Now I have to admit that Renfield has beaten me several times at global chess – in the metaphorical sense. We’ve never sat down and played together on an actual literal chess board.”

Putin cleared his throat.

“The problem is knowing him as I do,” Putin grimaced, “is that he’s just the sort of man capable of making Britain 🇬🇧 great again making Great Britain truly Great Britain in fact as well as in name. If the sun once again doesn’t set on the Union Jack, this will mean trouble for the Russian Motherland.”

The FSB officers assembled in the room were silent.

Then in a paraphrase of English King Henry II’s statement about Archbishop of Canterbury Thomas Beckett, Putin asked, “Will no one rid me of this turbulent MP?”.

FSB officers looked at one another.

They knew what those words meant and implied.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday November 2nd
2017.

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Gali-Gula Teleprompts A Justin Trudeau Speech

October 9, 2017 at 8:39 pm (Comedy, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Humour, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Science-Fiction, Vampire novel) (, , , )

Gali-Gula Teleprompts A Justin Trudeau Speech

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was about to give a speech to a Toronto media club (for the Toronto media loved Prime Minister Pothead Selfie 🤳 Socks as more intelligent people called him- in fact it was the Toronto media’s ultimate objective in life to be able to have their lips 👄 surgically attached to Justin’s buttocks so they could forever be kissing his ass).

As Trudeau waited behind the curtains to walk out on to the stage, the Niburuan ET gray Gali-Gula (who was possessed by the ghost of the ancient Roman Emperor Caligula) appeared to him.

“What are you doing here?” Justin’s jaw dropped along with his underwear, “I’m only supposed to see you if I’ve been inhaling pot.”

“And what do you think that aging hippy anti-Vietnam war protestor veteran you’ve been talking to the past half hour was smoking, you moron?” Gali-Gula asked.

“Oh, shit,” Justin gulped.

“Pot actually,” the ET gray corrected the Prime Ministerial bozo.

“How can I give a speech if you’re here?” Justin was flustered 😩, “I’ll lose my concentration.”

“I’ll help you,” Gali-Gula smiled, “I’ll act as your teleprompter.”

Justin went out to face the media and the music.

“On the issue of the Energy East pipeline…” Justin paused.

Gali-Gula teleprompted, “The people of Western Canada and the province of Alberta in particular can go fuck themselves for the sake of national unity. Everyone knows the Ottawa government revolves around the master race province of Quebec.”

Trudeau repeated the words verbatim then gulped.

“You know that’s what you’re really thinking,” Gali-Gula smiled at him.

“On the issue of tax reform that my Finance Minister Bill Morneau and myself are bringing forth…” Trudeau again paused.

Gali-Gula teleprompted, “We’re going to completely wipe out the middle class in this country. As you know, historically speaking, Communist revolutions are most successful in societies where there is no middle class present. Why are we doing this? Because it’s 2017. It’s the 100th Anniversary of the Russian Bolshevik Revolution for Christ’s… I mean… for… Lenin’s sake.”

Trudeau repeated the words verbatim then gulped again.

“The acorn never does fall far from the tree,” Gali-Gula recalled Justin’s Marxist-Leninist sympathizing father Pierre Elliot.

“On the issue of legalizing pot which….” Justin paused again.

“… appears to be the only campaign promise that I’m actually keeping,” Gali-Gula teleprompted, “we’re naturally moving full speed ahead. Why? Because potheads are so stoned and out of their minds, they’ll naturally line up to receive the Mark of the Beast when that great global leader the Antichrist, the Beast, 666 arrives on the world 🌎 scene.”

Trudeau once again repeated the words verbatim and then gulped again.

“That’s probably the first totally honest speech that Justin has given since he first entered politics,” Gali-Gula remarked to a shocked 😳 Prime Ministerial aide who couldn’t see or hear him.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 9th
2017.

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The Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow Rises Again

September 30, 2017 at 3:15 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery/horror, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal was visiting the village of Sleepy Hollow near Tarrytown in northern New York state.

She was searching for the grave of a former lover of hers- a Hessian military officer who fought for the Hanoverian king George III during the American Revolutionary War and who got his head shot off by a stray cannonball much to his dismay.

The officer’s name was Friedrich Wotan Wiesbaden.

Allatallahbel found the grave of the Headless Horseman Friedrich Wotan Wiesbaden in the forest a few miles out of town from the village of Sleepy Hollow.

Vampiress Allatallahbel Near The Grave of The Headless Horseman

A large gravestone and marker for the grave had been paid for by the government of Germany back in 1933 shortly after a man named Adolf Hitler had been appointed Chancellor of Germany.

The reason for building a gravestone marker for the long dead headless Hessian officer were known only to Allatallahbel and Adolf.

After standing beside the gravestone marker and reflecting for a while, Allatallahbel then stood back and chanted a spell that was given her by the ancient Egyptian god Thoth.

Thoth had recently returned to this particular spatial/temporal dimension.

On the day of the full lunar eclipse across the U.S.- August 21st 2017- in fact.

After chanting the spell, she waited.

The headless Hessian officer then arose from the grave along with his horse (for he had been buried with his horse).

Allatallahbel then gave the Headless Horseman his instructions.

The Horseman saluted (even though he had no head to salute on) and rode off.

He stopped off in front of a store in Tarrytown and broke the store’s front window and helped himself to a carved Jack O’ Lantern pumpkin which he immediately put on top of his shoulders.

He then rode all the way to downtown Manhattan.

Many New York City policemen tried to stop the Headless Horseman but he beheaded them with his regimental sword.

The policemen’s beheadings were met with cheers by supporters of the Black Lives Matter movement.

The Headless Horseman passed a television set in a department store window where Pope Francis was doing a stand-up comedy routine in which he claimed the apostolic exhortation Amoris Laetitia was a Thomist document.

The Headless Horseman could be heard cackling through his carved Jack O’ Lantern teeth.

Friedrich Wotan Wiesbaden then rode down to the New York City docks where he and his horse boarded a ship bound for Europe.

He hoped the ship would arrive in Europe before Halloween.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday September 30th
2017.

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An Unbearable Visitor To Moscow

September 1, 2017 at 5:43 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

An Unbearable Visitor To Moscow

Russian President Vladimir Putin was alerted to a dangerous situation in the streets of Moscow by his Chief of Staff Dmitri Constanovich.

“What’s up, Dmitri?” Putin asked, “Is George Soros flying his bandana wearing Antifa thugs and hooligans over here to riot, assault people and damage public and private property in what The New York Times, The Washington Post and former U.S. President Barack Obama would refer to as a ‘peaceful assembly’?”.

“No, Mr. President,” Dmitri shook his head, “remember your own orders issued last month about how any plane ✈️ even suspected of carrying Soros financed Antifa hooligans on board is to be immediately shot down without question and the remains of the dead are to be fed to Siberian rats as the ultimate form of rat poison?”.

“Oh yes, I do remember that,” Putin nodded, “so what’s up?”.

“A Eurasian brown bear 🐻 has been seen wandering the streets of Moscow,” Dmitri answered.

“Alone and by itself?” Putin asked.

“Yes,” Dmitri nodded.

“Did it escape from the zoo or a circus?” Putin inquired.

“We have no idea, your Excellency,”
Dmitri answered.

“But surely this is a matter for the Wildlife Services,” Putin took off his shirt and noticed how his chest was so much sexier than that of Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, “surely the glorious head of the glorious Russian Motherland namely myself shouldn’t be bothered with such trivialities.”

“But this appears to be no ordinary bear, your Excellency,” Dmitri read from the Moscow police report, “it was first found to be panhandling on the streets of Moscow without a licence though for some reason no policeman ticketed it. Then it entered several Moscow bars and ordered dozens of glasses of vodka and downed them and paid for them. Then it entered one of Moscow’s leading massage parlours and got a massage from the topless masseuses who work there.”

“Would that be the Stalin-A-Go-Go?” Putin asked as he rubbed his chest with suntan lotion.

“Yes, your Excellency,” Dmitri nodded.

“So the bear likes to drink and is horny for beautiful women,” Putin shrugged, “at least we know then that it’s a Russian Eurasian brown bear and not a North American brown bear. Those will probably be marching in Gay Pride Parades this weekend.”

“Yes, but according to one of Moscow’s leading psychics Anastasia Leninska, this Eurasian brown bear is possessed by the ghost of Grigori Rasputin,” Dmitri looked grim.

“The Grigori Rasputin?” Putin stopped rubbing the raspberry coloured suntan lotion on his chest.

“Yes,” Dmitri slumped into a chair.

“This could pose problems,” Putin looked out his office window at the storm ⛈ clouds hovering over Moscow.

Meanwhile in Gorky Park, that old 1970s Boney M song Rasputin was playing on all the radios in the park,

“Ra ra Rasputin
Russia’s greatest love machine…”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday September 1st
2017.

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Boxing and The Supernatural

August 26, 2017 at 7:08 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, News, Sports, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Boxing and The Supernatural

Dracul Van Helsing was sitting in a London sports bar with the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and the Venezuelan vampiress Francesca Chavez.

Renfield R. Renfield MP had come into the bar to watch the Conor McGregor vs. Floyd Mayweather Fight.

When he saw Dracul with the two elegantly dressed vampiresses, he turned around and left.

“I refuse to be around any ménage a trois where I’m not part of the ménage or the trois,” Renfield remarked bitterly as he walked out the door.

Dracul meanwhile was reading up about Conor McGregor’s sudden breakthrough into UFC fighting on a night in Sweden back in 2013.

And now here McGregor was in his first professional boxing 🥊 match.

He looked at McGregor’s picture and then thought of an email that Peter Whitstable the Fox Mulder of Interpol had sent him 8 years ago.

Here’s the background to that Whitstable email 8 years ago:

http://thevampiresamurai.blogspot.ca/2009/07/gordon-black-donnelly.html?m=1

Dracul told Qonzilqointec and Francesca about that email.

“So, what do you think?” Qonzilqointec asked Dracul, “Do you think this McGregor is Donelly?”.

“Yes, do you?” Francesca asked, “and if he is, that means he has boxed before.”

“I don’t know,” Van Helsing shrugged, “but it makes for an interesting story.”

Unbeknownst to the ménage a trois trio, French President Emmanuel Macron (on a private incognito visit to London) was sitting in the booth behind them listening to what they were saying.

He quickly exited and ran from the sports bar back to his hotel to pour some Grecian Formula on his hair as his hair had suddenly turned gray.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday August 26th
2017.

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Donald Trump’s Inspirational Pre-Fry Kim Jong-un Day Speech To U.S. Troops

August 12, 2017 at 3:43 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, Literature, News, Poetry, Satire) (, , , , , , )

Donald Trump’s Inspirational Pre-Fry Kim Jong-Un Day Speech To U.S. Troops

(with apologies to Will Shakespeare and Henry V over the Saint Crispin’s Day speech)

Donald Trump, preparing for war with North Korea, is set to address the troops.

He is informed by the ghost of the late U.S. Army General William Westmoreland that all transgendered enlisted have now left the U.S. Army.

Donald Trump gazing at what’s left says, “We happy few…”

Trump (beginning speech):

What’s he that twitters so?
My heroes don’t die Westmoreland? No, my late General
If we are marked to fry, we are enow
To do our country loss, and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour (if we ignore the lying news media)
My will, I pray me, wish not one man more
By Trump, I am not covetous for gold (for I have plenty already),
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost (whatever the Hell that’s supposed to mean
I’ll have to fire my latest speechwriter or Chief of Staff or press secretary),
It yearns me not if men my garments wear (for I am not transgendered- real men
can wear my garments),
Such outward things dwell not in my desires
(save to grab a fair woman’s ass as I said long years ago),
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive
(wow, this Bill Shakespeare was really prophetic
concerning my Presidency).
No faith my coz (save to attract Bible belt voters), wish not a man from England
(since my campaign slogan was America First!).
Trump’s pence! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more (my VP) methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have (finishing my term without impeachment)
O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through thy ghost,
That he which hath no stomach for this fight,
Let him depart (or be deported); his passport shall be made (and then revoked!),
And crowns for convoy put into his purse (when he is thrown beyon’ yonder wall);

(At this point the amateur actor Snout from the Midsummer Night’s Theatre Company appears in front of Trump dressed as a brick wall. He has graffiti on his brick wall garment that says Gringoland or Bust!)

Snout (as Wall);

In this same interlude it doth befall
That I, one Snout by name, present a wall;
And such a wall, as I would have you think,…

Trump (pointing): Someone get this idiot out of here! Security! Security! Throw the bum out!

(Snout is grabbed by security and hauled away)

Trump (continues his speech quite literally ghostwritten by William Shakespeare):

We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called Fry Kim Jong-un Day
(how Saint Hannibal of Lecter celebrated pre-Vatican II teaching on Friday’s culinary diets)
He that shall live this day (shall feel he’s been microwaved) and comes peeling away home
Shall watch his toes fall off when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Kim Jong-un.
He that shall live this day (singing Whoa, whoa, I’m radioactive) and welcome the New Age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast on his neighbours (or at least their remains),
And say ‘Tomorrow is Fry Kim Jong-un.’
Then will he strip his sleeve (with his new metallic cyborg hands) and show his scars,
And say, ‘These wounds I had on Fry Kim Jong-un Day.’
Old men forget (sometimes that they’re wearing a toupee); yet all shall be forgot
But he’ll remember, with cancerous sores,
What feets he lost that day. Then shall our names
Familiar in his mouth as decaying teeth-
Donald The Trump, Mattis and Tillerson,
McMaster and Kelly, Ivanka and Jared,
Be in their flowing cups (and streams of blood red) freshly rememb’ red.
This story shall the good man teach his son (Barron, where are you?);
And Fry Kim Jong-un shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world (Trump looks at his watch) “Possibly another hour”,
But we in it shall be remembered (if the lying news media says I’m senile, it’s fake news) –
We few, we happy (but not gay) few, we band of brothers,
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother, be he ne’er so vile (as to be transgendered),
This day shall toughen his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves lucky they were not here,
And hold their (TV) remotes cheap while none will speak
As they watch on the screen the mushroom cloud that fell on Fry Kim Jong-un Day.

-A Shakespearean satirical speech
written by Christopher
Saturday August 12th
2017.

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South African Artist SAREJESS and The Ship From Hades

August 5, 2017 at 3:30 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

The great South African Artist SAREJESS was having another strange dream.

But this wasn’t like the others he had been having recently.

The other dreams he had were somehow related to time- a dream about an hourglass being overturned by mermaids, a dream about a sundial that was able to operate at night during the moonlight, a dream about a railway watch that hung between the lovely breasts of a beautiful blonde brothel girl who worked in a Wild West saloon during the days of America’s Old West, a dream about a cuckoo clock where the cuckoo bird that came out of it alternated between the faces of Orson Welles and the faces of an Egyptian Pharaoh, a dream about a giant hamster standing atop the clock tower of Big Ben at Westminster where a cloud in the shape of Vincent Price’s face in the moonlight appeared above.

And those other dreams (about things relating to time) had compelled him to paint pictures.

This particular dream was about a picture that he had already painted.

The Ship From Hades

In this painting, he had been assisted by his two young apprentices Jody and Joshua.

A friend of his from Canada had said the ship in the painting reminded him of the sort of ship that Hades the Greek god of the Underworld would sail should he choose to sail in the 7 Seas above his netherworld realm.

In this dream, SAREJESS was aboard a modern ship.

There was a heavy strange misty fog at sea and this ship from Hades was sailing towards the modern ship in whose bridge room he was standing.

He heard a bunch of people speaking excitedly in a language that sounded to him like Russian.

Meanwhile aboard the Russian Navy ship The Saint Vladimir that was currently in the Mediterranean Sea not far from Tel Aviv on Israel’s coastline:

“Do you see it, Captain?” The ship’s navigator asked the captain of the Saint Vladimir.

“I do,” the Captain of the Saint Vladimir replied as he looked through his binoculars and saw the Ship From Hades from SAREJESS’ painting approach.

Meanwhile in his office in Jerusalem, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu read an email and then said to one of his aides, “Israel may be in a state of total war later this month.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday August 5th
2017.

To check out paintings by the great South African artist SAREJESS for yourself, please visit this site:

http://www.sarejess.co.za/

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South African Artist SAREJESS and The Railway Watch

July 23, 2017 at 6:11 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, International Intrigue, Mystery, Science-Fiction, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

South African Artist SAREJESS and The Railway Watch

The great South African artist SAREJESS was having another dream.

In this dream, he saw a lovely elegantly designed railway watch on a chain that was hanging between a shapely pair of feminine breasts.

He heard a voice saying, “Oh Serena, what a lovely pair of knockers you have.”

SAREJESS found himself repeating those words in his sleep.

SAREJESS immediately found himself being awakened by his wife Winnie who asked, “Who’s Serena?”.

Tim (SAREJESS’s real first name) stammered in reply.

He figured he’d better run down to his studio.

Because in SAREJESS’ opinion, a frying pan 🍳 was meant for frying eggs and not for hitting husbands over the head when they make stupid statements which husbands are prone to do.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday July 23rd
2017.

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South African Artist SAREJESS and The Sands of Time

July 19, 2017 at 2:59 pm (Art, Arts, Folklore, Ghost Story, Mystery, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, )

South African Artist SAREJESS and The Sands of Time

The great South African artist SAREJESS was dreaming.

He was dreaming he was walking along a very sandy beach.

On the beach was a huge hourglass.

The hourglass looked to be ancient.

The sands had run out.

The upper glass bulb of the hourglass was empty.

While the lower bulb beneath the hourglass’ narrow neck was full of sand.

A huge wave suddenly came in towards the shore and surrounded the hourglass.

Mermaids leapt forth from the waves.

They turned the hourglass over.

So once again the sands of time were flowing through the hourglass.

The waves retreated and the alluringly beautiful mermaids went with them.

And the hourglass was once again on the sandy beach.

For the beach was now completely dry again despite having been hit by the waves carrying the magical mermaids.

And sand flowed down from the upper glass tube (that moments before had been the lower glass tube) through the hourglass’ narrow neck into the new lower glass tube (that prior to the sudden advent of wave and mermaid had been the upper glass tube).

A voice spoke to SAREJESS from beyond the ocean, “Behold the sands of time are flowing once more.”

Then SAREJESS woke up.

He ran to his studio.

This scene he felt compelled to paint. 🎨

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday June 18th
2017.

To buy a genuine authentic oil painting by the great South African artist SAREJESS for yourself, please visit http://www.sarejess.co.za/

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