"When we were werewolves" by Jeff LaughlinWhen we were werewolves, I dug my claws into your back when I didn’t see you sleeping.
When we were werewolves, I ran behind the pack with an injured paw. When we were werewolves, we never really vacuumed but we did get vaccinations. When we were werewolves, I ran my hand over my clavicle and felt hair there for the first time, and I was scared all to shit. When we were werewolves, machines scared us as they whipped and whistled and made bright noises that clogged our ears until we shook our heads clear. When we were werewolves, straws had no meaning to us, as we were not all that into milkshakes. When we were werewolves, berries grew from trees all around us – ripe and dripping after misty showers. When we were werewolves, we forgot about our daydreams of touchdown passes, last-second heroics, and being loved by the general population – we just ate and let the blood dribble through the hairs on our chins (turned snouts). When we were werewolves, we cavorted and capered with full and sagging bellies and danced as our legs came back into human form. When we were werewolves, dreams of massive silver bullets chasing me with goofy-legged running styles plagued me until I woke up with cold sweat on my reddened cheeks. When we were werewolves, I rolled around in dirt. When we were werewolves, I refused to eat, pray or love sometimes and I know it worried you and I’m sorry. When we were werewolves, it didn’t help that I wanted to watch television at odd times. When we were werewolves, we prowled about like we owned the Earth – stalking quietly through not each other; food. When we were werewolves, ctrlaltdelete, ctrlaltdelete. We abandoned. When we were werewolves, we were, we were, we weren’t, then we were, we were, we were, then we most certainly were. |