By James Van Pelt

Dating apps abound for everyone. FarmersD connects farmers. Bristlr for bearded men and those who love them. Sizzl joins bacon fans.

I meet her where we agreed on the app, at Cliff Notes, a bar overlooking the bay. She reads the room with predator eyes before sitting, before facing me, and I tremble.

Whose fetish do we serve?

Can she love and not devour me? That is my question.

Am I attractive as a sentient being, or a warm meal? That is hers. Can she resist?

Vampires exist, and I’m afraid, but I touch her hand and we order wine.

“I write because I love how language works, and how the best writing somehow manages to be greater than the sum of its parts.” – the writer

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