Thirsty? Have some blood.
This is fresh beet juice with a half a just-picked lemon squeezed into it, live food for the vampire grandmas.
Berry Knotwell didn’t eat right for a vampire grandma. She struggled to get fresh kale down. She gagged into her napkin when she tried to eat the snails or raw oysters that the others so loved and pushed on her. She spilled the yogurt soup into the potted plants. And she hated any pickle-probiotic thing. No kimchee, no sauerkraut, none of that disgusting drink made of fermenting mushroom “mothers.” Kombucha—that was it; she couldn’t even remember the word for it she hated it so much. The others made fun of her at first, trying to tease her into trying the delicious living food that they loved. But Berry excused herself and threw up after eating a little mound of steak tartar and a morsel of sashimi.
“How can you be healthy if you don’t eat living food,” said Ruth Leslie Wright, touching her large ring. “You’re one of us. You need Life Juice. You’re starving, Berry.”
“I have a bad gut,” pleaded Berry.
“Probiotics help. Alive probiotics. You know we have to eat living things.” Ruth-Leslie started to brush the shoulders of Berry’s black jacket. “You’re losing your hair,” said Ruth-Leslie.
“Berry, look at me,” said Ruth-Leslie in her imperative tone. “Good intestinal health is imperative for posthumans. You’ll really have problems if you don’t eat right. You’ll blow up like a car airbag or waste away. And Berry—you know about our ancestors who used to suck blood in those horrible frenzies. They were under-nourished–that’s all. If they’d had the right diet, there would have been no crazy Dracula blood drinking. No more vampire brides with sacks of nabbed snack babies. So Berry, you have to eat,” said Ruth Leslie.
“I don’t want to.”
“You look awful.”
“I know. I can’t help it. “