Vampire cat

When the morning is dark, the city still asleep, the monster is awake. He quietly sits at the end of the bed, silently staring at the two unaware humans. “Sleep for now…” he thinks out loud “..soon everything will be mine.”

An alarm goes off, I desperately try to reach for my phone. Hoping to turn off the sound in time before he awakes. As soon as my hand touches the bleeping device I realize I’m too late. I can feel four tiny paws making their way towards my face. The chainsaw loud purr moves closer to my face. I withdraw my arm quickly silencing my phone under the sheets and close my eyes. I lay as still as I can, but I have failed. A screech is followed by the deafening purr into my ear. He knows that I know what time it is.

The hunt for flesh begins. His nose digs under the sheets, he find my arm and screeches again with joy. He pushes his nose against the bare skin sniffing in the scent and places his paws to hold it in place. From each paw four razorsharp nails emerge digging deeper into the skin, kneeding one by one into my arm..forcing me to get up.

I get up, immediatly hundreds and hundreds of litter particles touch the soles of my feet. He has done it again. When we sleep he marks his territory. The tiny particles are infused with his smell and spread as far as he can. During the day they are kept in one place. A big box, especially for him, but it’s not enough anymore. Most evenings he walks in and out over and over, spreading the particles like wildfire around the house. One day,..the whole house will be taken over and will will stand no chance.

To keep him happy we feed him. Oh do we feed him. But every now and then his mood changes and food is no more than a measly peace offering. He retaliates and in a bloodrage he leaves decapitated frogs all over the house. It’s a significant warning…The worst thing is, we haven’t found out yet what for. all we can do is wait…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Van People

I moved into a car.

Yes a car. Not just any old car, but a car with a bed in the back and my clothes in boxes, stashed under it. I find myself crazy for saying it out loud but it feels so liberating.

New Zealand turned out to be a bit over my backpacking budget. I’ve been working my ass off but I hand it all back in for rent. Daan and I were getting a little stressed out. Until we met….. the Van People.

Backpackers who turned their vans into homes. Some of them decked out, some of them just have a mattress thrown in the back and a few curtains. But it works. There’s showers on every beach, free campsites all around and bbq’s next to the dunes. It’s freaking perfect. Envious of our newly discovered subculture, we infiltrated their circle, bombarding them with questions about all the how’s and where’s. Which they were happy to share with us newcomers. And a few days ago..We finally became a part of the Van People.

Excited and feeling very mature/free/hippie-like we had our first night sleep in our car last night. I had finished work so late and we both needed to be in a certain area again in the early morning. We decided to sleep in a carpark near a public toilet block. Our car doesn’t look like the typical backpacker car and you can’t see in. This is good because we didn’t want to get caught here. So we had to sneak around a little instead of making ourselves comfortable before going to sleep.

It’s comfortable all right. But sleep could have been better. Daan kept having nightmares about the car rolling into the road while we were sleeping. So every little while he’d sit up in utter shock looking out the rear window to check if it all was ok. Not really awake, not really asleep but very freaked out all right.

Turns out this is the mark of being part of the Van People. One other girl kept dreaming her car got taken by the sea during a tsunami when she would park next to the beach. The price to pay for a free life;)

 

 

 

Dear Housemate,

Dear housemate,

Though I know you envision yourself a ghost, a master of disguise,
I now have to tell you this,
I don’t think it will come as a surprise.

That, alas, the opposite is true,
Your grossness has been found out.
We all know it was you.

The long curly hairs in my razor, really weren’t mine.
You transformed the white spotless shower walls into a curtain of body hair and grime.

It’s fine you empty your nose out over the sink.
And what an aim I might say!!I’m impressed!
I would never reach that back wall, I think.

When it’s time to sit down after a long day of work.
You make sure you welcome me with a nice smelly burp.

You close the windows because it’s so cold.
Leaving the stench of your farts and other unleashed fumes to unfold.

This one time I got annoyed and spoke my mind clear.
But you said: “Whatever Ains! It doesn’t smell, it goes straight into the atmosphere.”

That’s fine, I’ll have dinner in my room again, alone.
So you can enjoy your extra loud trash metal and hardcore without my moan.

I’ve always wonder what the limit is of your beer bottle collection on the floor.
Twenty-five? Thirty-two? Sixty-four!?

Ok, ok,..you have your heart in the right place and you do have your good days.
You picked up the hoover once and almost made it across the hall way.

Remember that one time, where you attempted to do the dishes?
The sink was full of water and crap for days, you gave up and went out with the missus.

So I’d lie if I’d say I’ll be missing you, my heart filled with grief.
Actually I know for sure the both of us will find it a great relief.

Soon the day will come where we’re moving out, so we can live without any strain.
So let’s part and promise to never live with each other again.