No Rest for the Werey
The moon fills up and all
of the old itches return.
He catches a glimpse
of himself in the Mirror
as he rushes down the hall:
muzzle going white; claws
wearing down; that tooth
that never grew back and
he wonders in the 2 seconds
before he leaps out the window
if just once he could stay home
and ride it out with a bottle of
George T. and maybe a nice
Glenn Duncan novel.
2 thoughts on "No Rest for the Werey"
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A day and a night and a day
I spend lexpomoing
no time for bush-hogging
no time for werewolfing
I was hooked on the first two thirds and found myself laughing by the end, even without knowing Glen Duncan’s work.