The vampire beside the trash can to the right of pater took up the singsong refrain, and the flash of his feet moving in the silver threads of rain was mesmerizing. He ignored it and completed his somersault, then landed dead-legged two tiers below and tumbled over the edge. And they were still grinning, still shooting the bull back and forth.
The moon was full and high, and without trees around them, it seemed they could see forever. Kamala arrives on a pilgrimage to gotama buddha, who is dying.