Night fell upon the town like a hammer on an anvil. As the moon rubbed its shoulders with the nighttime sky, feelings within me started to emerge. I sensed a need to become involved. I sensed a need for family. As the moon again this evening fell into focus, increasingly defining the ridges never before seen, I found myself wandering this time through a patch of tree.
There, where moonlight descended like a flashlight on a target, I saw them waiting; they were waiting for me. Without talk, we spoke another language where understanding was given with a growl and eyes said everything else we needed to hear. It was as if I was part of a pack. I belonged here with them. I knew it. They knew it. But yet, something told me there was more to come.
Like animals on a prowl, I had become one with one, but yet joined the entire pack. In a frenzy, we communicated carnally. Our presence become one unified howl as the moon became that which we worshiped. Upon fruition of song to the new moon, we ate. We took all we wanted, savagely consuming any and all we could.
Here, again, morning and I am lying nude, next to the tracks behind and the woods behind the Walmart on Smith Street. What is happening? Why again am I covered in blood. Why now do I feel as if I am part of a family, welcomed in a dream I hope never existed? Time will tell as cycles of the moon reoccur.
He now becomes part of the animals that thirst and hunt by night