Vampire in the bar eating peanuts, had gone upstairs to check caskets. As the flattened chords of B-flat blues wandered through her oak pollen-filled nostrils, she awoke with lace around her body. The priest was a Martian with a love for whiskey. He took confession at the corner table. Despite vampire's tastes in blood, he … Continue reading Story: Carbonated, by Tom Grayhorse →