My Vampire Professor
“I grew up on a farm with my father only. My mother had passed away before I was old enough to remember anything. But he told me how much she loved his made-up stories, and it was one of the things she loved about him. So, every year on her birthday, my father would take me to her grave site, and he would read one of his fictional stories.”
He was quiet as I spoke.
“Sometimes he would even have me help him construct a new story to read to her grave. They were usually about farm animals,” I said, getting lost in these memories.
“So, you used to write farm fiction?” Joseph asked and for a moment, I swear I heard humor in his tone. Like he wanted to laugh, but he remained respectful.
“Yes,” I c
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