Mesa-Mesa

In a coffee shop on a rainy day in a rainy city, a blind vampire was sitting and enjoying his coffee peacefully.  Edsel Acklan had always enjoyed the decadent coffee drinks that the shop served, far more than he enjoyed the black coffee he’d grown up on.  On the table in front of him was his favorite book, and in between taking sips of his drink he ran his fingertips over the raised marks on the pages.  This was something he did fairly frequently, almost spending more time in the shop than his home, or enough so at least that the staff all knew him by name and knew his favorite drinks.  They didn’t know he was a vampire of course, o

In a coffee shop on a rainy day in a rainy city, a blind vampire was sitting and enjoying his coffee peacefully.  Edsel Acklan had always enjoyed the decadent coffee drinks that the shop served, far more than he enjoyed the black coffee he’d grown up on.  On the table in front of him was his favorite book, and in between taking sips of his drink he ran his fingertips over the raised marks on the pages.  This was something he did fairly frequently, almost spending more time in the shop than his home, or enough so at least that the staff all knew him by name and knew his favorite drinks.  They didn’t know he was a vampire of course, o