—This dead-of-night scene as horror: Creepy for sure, especially the bit about my shifting from Hulk-smashing through the debris to lightly walking over it. You intimate I was floating, but I imagined me stretched out and insectlike, psychopomping my bulk in such an expert way that I weighed almost nothing. Chills, dude. Even though it’s written in first person and the reader knows that at this point in the book there’s no way you could die within the scene, and even though I know what happened, I was worried and scared for Punk Art. Horror at its core reminds us of the inevitability of death, even if it doesn’t occur on the page. However, are you sort of maybe possibly taking the make-everyday-objects-and-scenarios-menacing thing a bit too far with floating dressers and jackets that become homunculi parasites? Yeah, when I state plainly the supernatural bits like that and without any story context it sounds silly, just as I could make so many other horror stories/movies sound silly in a similar manner. *Sigh* Okay, I liked the uncanniness of you first seeing the dresser and then becoming obsessed with finding exactly where it was rooted to the wall. That’s cool. It’s weird and real at the same time. And, the following night, I liked the juxtaposition of your being scared precisely because the dresser is now *on* the floor. That bit works because the everyday, normal thing is now strange and off and creepy. And what happens next? Eh. Perhaps it comes down to personal taste, but I was more moved by the ambiguity of the dresser, of not knowing what the fuck was up with the dresser, than by it and other objects in the room gone floaty. Like I’ve told you before, I don’t believe in the supernatural as it relates to ghosts or demons or beings, be they devils or gods. Despite my love of horror, I have a hard time suspending disbelief in fiction/movies too. I so desperately want to believe, but I cannot. Not for a lack of trying, either. I’m not expressing myself very well because there are plenty of books and movies with supernatural elements that scare and have scared the shit out of me, that bring me to a wait-a-minute precipice of belief. It’s just the floating thing, man. I’m having a hard time connecting with it. But I’m thinking maybe the vampire me bombards you with a kind of pheromone that makes you more receptive and suggestive, makes you hallucinate. I like the idea of a naturalistic vampire, and pheromones messing with your head would be a cool callback to the classic trope of a vampire hypnotizing victims. Or, how about this: I like the idea of the vampire as some kind of transgression or transgressor from another dimension or something like that, something that can mess with space/time, can get quantum on you. I haven’t fully worked that out, and maybe that’s fine, we’re not supposed to know, and maybe even the vampire/being straddling the multiverses or multiexistences doesn’t know either. Why would the vamp know? I mean, think about it this way: Do you know the why or how of your own consciousness?