That Sunday Night Feeling

Hans had enjoyed a lazy Sunday, taking advantage of the opportunity to put his feet up and relax.  Music had been playing all day; he hadn’t really been listening to it but it made a pleasant accompaniment to whatever thoughts idled through his mind as he dozed.

The day had begun with bells, loud clanging bells that had shattered his peace, calling the sheep to the shepherd.  Fools! He had thrust a pillow over his head until the cacophony ceased.  To spend your only day off in a cold and musty church while a man who knows nothing about real life bleats at you from the pulpit.  Idiots!  You should get out and about, walk in the countryside, and enjoy the sun on your skin.  While you still can.

The bells rang a second time.  It isn’t enough that the idiots get up early and dress in their best clothes – oh no.  They have to go back again for a second helping.  Well, good luck to them.  Idiots.

Other than these interruptions and uncharitable thoughts, Hans had enjoyed the day, but the clock was ticking inexorably on the mantelpiece and the sky was thickening with darkness.  That sinking feeling began to set in.  The encroachment of duty, of must-do, of unavoidable…  Hans went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face.  Already his face in the mirror was beginning to fade.  There was just time enough to curl his upper lip and see where his fangs were coming in.  Right on schedule.

Then the mirror showed him nothing but a clear view of the wall behind him.  Those tiles needed regrouting.  Perhaps next weekend, if he got a minute.

But now it was time to do what he had to.  If he got a wriggle on, he might be able to swoop on a couple of stragglers making their way home from church.  Hans’s red eyes flashed.  He’d be all right once he got into the swing of things.

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