On the other hand, perhaps sitting on a near spotless couch with clothes that were dirty with dirt and dried blood wasn't the best idea. Instead, Clarkie rest his shoulder against the a wall and watched Arthur with an intense look as though trying to figure him out. Then he talked.

Afterward, he wished he had a cigarette or toothpick or something to keep his mouth or hands busy. "You look good for someone who is a little over a hundred," he said.

It was one of the first things on his mind other than the clear obvious, but never the less true:

Arthur was a vampire.

Clarkie had drank Arthur's blood.

He felt absolutely no lingering effects of their time spent in that place.