Pinpricks, and my mind was loosed, back in time. I walk into this room, fighting against myself, tearing her picture down from the mantle. I enter my house for the first time in weeks, realizing it is much too quiet and empty. I step off the plane, briefcase in hand, and attempt to hail a taxi at the same time as two hundred people from my plane. I try to hint to the rather large lady beside me that, no, I don't wish to talk during the four hour long flight, my ears are refusing to pop and I'm in a rather cross mood.

The conference ends, and we all leave, having talked and drank too much, getting very little done, as is the way with conferences. Two weeks worth of blurry nights. Another plane - the seat beside me this time mercifully empty, with only an inane film to keep me company. Kissing her goodbye at the airport, hugging my son (just old enough to not want to be kissed anymore).

They come faster, too fast to recognize them all. Holding the squalling creature in my arms after a sleepless night at the hospital, a brief flash of tuxedos and dresses - a preacher presiding. A night in a motel because the dorms won't allow female visitors overnight, the first time I saw her - in someone else's arms, obviously unhappy, and the radiance which illuminated her face when she saw me.

Blue and red robes as we proceeded in, finally adults in everyone's eyes, the piece of paper secondary to the fact that we did it after all, fuck you very much, sitting in a smoky house as curiosity finally got the better of me, spending the rest of the night staring at people's faces and seeing the beauty underneath.

Faster now, but perfectly clear. Every memory crisp and new, even though I could not have found them on my own. Coming into home, breaking my wrist as I got tagged out, and more upset about being out than my wrist. Being spanked for picking up a package of gum at the store and putting it in my pocket - my parents discovering when they found me chewing my illicit treasure.

Suckling at my mother's breast.

A bright flash of light.

Blackness.

Suddenly we were separate, his wise eyes turning toward me between his curled black locks. He took his fingernail and sliced an expert incision in the olive skin of his wrist - my mouth surrounding it, sealing it.

Faster than mine his memories came - watching me, the hunt repeated endless times for centuries again and again without end, the legions that had fallen before Him. Flashes of both day and night - the legend disproved - an invention of Man to keep fear of Him away. He was my Universe as I drank deep of Him, traveling farther back; women in petticoats, then men in wigs. Barbarians painting their faces blue, blond marauders following their own codes of honor. Civilization rising and falling. Rome. Caesars are flashes in His memory. Languages ebb and flow like a tide, fashions flash by, lightning bolts of styles.

And then the flow of his life begins to slow.

A small room with His friends, not overly long after His birth, they not expecting anything more than a simple ritual meal.

As He devoured each of them, He offered Himself in return, an orgy of blood and unholy life.

Drink of me, that you may live.

He pushed me away from His wrist, and I collapsed, staring up at His beautiful face.

Then He took my hand, and we leapt from the window to become fishers of men.