December 31, 1699 - Venice

     Laughter echoes in the alleys. The smell of rum fills the air, reminding me of a time so long ago. A time when the turn of a century was something special, not just another day, another year, another cry in the night. When I was human, my father welcomed the New Year passed out on the dirt floor of our home. I watched as he vomited on himself in his slumber and promised myself that I would never be like him. I guess I kept that resolution.

     Leaning against a building, I distract myself from the loneliness my curse brings and choose my meal carefully. Not that one, he’s much too drunk. He won’t scream the way I want him to. Not her. She has her arm looped around a man that sees nothing but her face. Finally, I see my prey. Round and pompous, a rich glutton shoves his way through the crowd. I smile to myself. This may actually be a happy New Year after all.