I am not making this up

It had been two years since I'd last stayed in Forks, Washington for a photography workshop.

Little about the quiet lumber town had changed, despite its new-found fame.

Only one specialty store.

And the signs.

The marquee at our motel, the Olympic Suites Inn, read, "Edward Cullen didn't sleep here."

I arrived on a Friday afternoon. It was, incredibly, the day of the local blood drive.

At the high school.