A Resurrection of Spite and Modern Amusements

Ah, let me tell you, Anonymous, about the night I awoke in that damned coffin. The peasants thought they had done me in, eh? They stabbed me through the heart with that wooden stake and buried me like some common criminal. But they underestimated La Sovrana Notturna. As I clawed my way out of that earthy prison, I felt a burning spite for them, for the gods they prayed to, for the entire world that had wronged me. ‘Vaffanculo,’ I muttered as I wrote that note and pinned it inside my empty coffin with the same stake that had paralyzed me. It was my declaration of war against mortality itself.

In this modern era, 1984 San Francisco is quite the peculiar place. These mortals have their ‘technology,’ their flashing lights and buzzing machines. It amuses me to no end, really. Why, just the other night, I found myself playing this… ‘Frogger’ game at a local arcade. The sheer absurdity of guiding a digital frog across a busy street had me chuckling like a schoolgirl. It’s almost enough to make one forget that these cattle are good for little more than their lifeblood… almost.

And yet, amidst this cacophony of progress, I find myself longing for simpler times. If only Giovanni could see this world now, with its neon lights and peculiar contraptions. He would have marveled at it all, I’m sure. But alas, he was taken from me long ago. Still, in moments like these, when the fog rolls in off the bay and the city hums with life, I can almost feel his presence beside me. ‘Che peccato,’ I whisper to the night air. What a pity it is that he cannot witness this strange new age we’ve entered.