Everyone, meet Titch

Dear Titch,

Yes, I know it’s daytime. Yes, I know you are only vampiric, and need your rest. You need to face the world with courage and determination that is typified by your kind.

You were named for your diminutive stature — Neil took one look and said, “Henceforth, thou will be known amongst men as Titch!”

(Well, he didn’t say those words exactly, I might be paraphrasing a little, but he did name you ‘Titch’.)

So, fella, you are my submission to the October Month of Softies (theme ‘All Hallow’s Hysteria’). You may not be very scary looking, but I consider you a bit of a scream myself. As the Average Joe of vampires, your kind is commonly overlooked by the media, who prefer to focus on the stylish, the mysterious, the arresting. You don’t transmogrify into anything, you have no interest in coffins (a darkened room with a comfy armchair will do you), and you certainly have no pretensions. There are no promiscuous young vampires trying to prove their depravity around you, there isn’t even a castle in sight. No one would sell you one anyway.

You are a real vampire, the kind that does all the dirty work, while media whores like the Count steal the limelight. You do your job every night, and in your lonely existence, there are no parties, no orgies of feasting — you merely go home, turn on the telly, and settle in for the day with a TV dinner balanced on your paunch.

Shorter than your pals, you do not even get to exact any revenge on their taunts and teases, all they need to do is keep you at arm’s length and you’re helpless. Such is the un-life of the vampire drone.

Halloween is coming up, however, so you should be cheered. It may be your time for renewal. You should aim to find a 24-hour gym and hit the treadmill or start spinning classes. Shaving your head would also be another good move, since very few lady vamps find a half-bald, middle-aged vampire very sexy.

Love,
Mum

P.S. Titch is currently up for adoption at my Etsy store.

• 6 Oct 2005