EYE OF A WOLF

 

There is no dark night, no full moon above, just a damp, lonely morning, and the loud thump of a heartbeat before me. They stand there, all wild and untamed. I can taste the sweat between their shoulder blades, heavy on their lips, the whisper of blood as it pools at their groin. I stand, a gangly, hollow chested boy in worn out sneakers and messed up hair, but with the glinting eye of a wolf.