My wife Lucille asked how I became a vampire. I didn’t like to remember about it, but we were already close enough (married), so I poured wine into a glass and said:
“It was a sunny day in 1715 … No, it was in the spring or maybe in the fall.”

I completely forgot when it was, so I was silent for a while.

“In short, it was a long time ago. I was 25 years old, and I was selling flowers in the market. Some strange and cryptic woman came up to me and ordered the delivery of two bouquets of red roses to her home. Then I took the money, and in the evening I loaded the bouquets into a basket and rode my bike to her gloomy house. She lived in a communal apartment with the drafty windows. I came in to give her flowers, and then! A cornice fell on me from her window. I, of course, passed out. When I woke up, I was already a vampire. The woman said she turned me into a vampire to save me. So I had cycled home.”

I didn’t tell her any of this. And I told her another story…