What Would A Mohammedan Vampire Do If

There We Will, I Pray, Remain And Learn And Grow Until The Time When We Will Rise Together To The Ultimate Heights, Changing In Appearance But Never In Devotion, Sharing The Transcendent Glory Of Our Love Through All Eternity.

Robert Neville Looked Out Over The New People Of The Earth. He Knew He Did Not Belong To Them; He Knew That, Like The Vampires, He Was Anathema And Black Terror To Be Destroyed. And, Abruptly, The Concept Came, Amusing To Him Even In His Pain. ... Full Circle. A New Terror Born In Death, A New Superstition Entering The Unassailable Fortress Of Forever. I Am Legend.

After A While, Though, Even The Deepest Sorrow Faltered, Even The Most Penetrating Despair Lost Its Scalpel Edge.

He Pretended It Was The Only Thing That Kept Him From It. But, Far Back In His Mind, He Wondered If He Could Write Anything. Often The Question Threw Itself At Him When He Was Least Expecting It. You Have Four Hours Every Morning, The Statement Would Rise Like A Menacing Wraith. You Have Time To Write Many Thousands Of Words. Why Don't You? And The Answer Was Always Lost In A Tangle Of Becauses And Wells And Endless Reasons That He Clung To Like A Drowning Man At Straws.

But It Was Hard To Keep His Hands Still. He Could Almost Feel Them Twitching Emphatically With His Strong Desire To Reach Out And Stroke The Dog's Head. He Had Such A Terrible Yearning To Love Something Again, And The Dog Was Such A Beautiful Ugly Dog.