On the Third Day of Fiction
My pusher gave to me
More werewolves in the big city
Blue Mistletoe, third in the series, is available for reading or download.
http://brooksandsparrow.com/bluemistletoe.pdf
~~~
A big step. That’s all I could think. I had just left home and family and my pack and my job. Everything I owned was packed in the back of my Honda, or waiting for me in Wisconsin. I’d sent most of my stuff ahead by UPS, books, mostly, my bike and my computer. Everything else I’d either sold or just left with the apartment. Paul had a real bed. I didn’t need a futon anymore. With each mile I put between myself and Memphis, I shivered just a little, and not only because the car’s heater was crap. But I knew this was the right thing to do.
Of course, it was. I pulled in the driveway. There was Paul, my own Big Bad Wolf, waiting for me in
the doorway under a sprig of mistletoe, his tall shape a little podgy, his hair a little longer, otherwise looking just as he had at the airport last December. I’d even worn my Christmas Cthulhu sweatshirt again. He hugged me hello and I wanted to stay in his arms.
“Ready to be a kept man, Furball?” he asked as he shut the door against the cold. “Welcome home.”
I stretched up and kissed him. Home. Home with a basement holding a doggie bed and water bowl for
the full moon. I didn’t quite cry. I thought about it. I’d been kind of shaky since Grandfather died.
Paul looked worried and stroked my hair. “Pup, you okay?” I nodded, but could feel my face making
the rictus of trying to smile when I wanted to cry.
“Do you know,” I didn’t like the thin almost hysterical sound of my voice, “I figured it up? In the last year, I have scored 178 on a life-change scale. By the end of the month-if we do that Christmas wedding you want--I’ll be to almost 300. One hundred leaves you ripe for illness. I suspect 300 leaves me ready for a nervous breakdown.”
Paul looked at me, and I couldn’t hold back any more. I hate being upset. I feel all hot and cold and I can always feel my ears and teeth getting longer and my chest going hairier. It hurts to change off the full moon. I clawed at the doorknob, its operation totally eluding me, and something in me howled to be outside.
More werewolves in the big city
Blue Mistletoe, third in the series, is available for reading or download.
http://brooksandsparrow.com/bluemistletoe.pdf
~~~
A big step. That’s all I could think. I had just left home and family and my pack and my job. Everything I owned was packed in the back of my Honda, or waiting for me in Wisconsin. I’d sent most of my stuff ahead by UPS, books, mostly, my bike and my computer. Everything else I’d either sold or just left with the apartment. Paul had a real bed. I didn’t need a futon anymore. With each mile I put between myself and Memphis, I shivered just a little, and not only because the car’s heater was crap. But I knew this was the right thing to do.
Of course, it was. I pulled in the driveway. There was Paul, my own Big Bad Wolf, waiting for me in
the doorway under a sprig of mistletoe, his tall shape a little podgy, his hair a little longer, otherwise looking just as he had at the airport last December. I’d even worn my Christmas Cthulhu sweatshirt again. He hugged me hello and I wanted to stay in his arms.
“Ready to be a kept man, Furball?” he asked as he shut the door against the cold. “Welcome home.”
I stretched up and kissed him. Home. Home with a basement holding a doggie bed and water bowl for
the full moon. I didn’t quite cry. I thought about it. I’d been kind of shaky since Grandfather died.
Paul looked worried and stroked my hair. “Pup, you okay?” I nodded, but could feel my face making
the rictus of trying to smile when I wanted to cry.
“Do you know,” I didn’t like the thin almost hysterical sound of my voice, “I figured it up? In the last year, I have scored 178 on a life-change scale. By the end of the month-if we do that Christmas wedding you want--I’ll be to almost 300. One hundred leaves you ripe for illness. I suspect 300 leaves me ready for a nervous breakdown.”
Paul looked at me, and I couldn’t hold back any more. I hate being upset. I feel all hot and cold and I can always feel my ears and teeth getting longer and my chest going hairier. It hurts to change off the full moon. I clawed at the doorknob, its operation totally eluding me, and something in me howled to be outside.