At Each Full Moon

Eyes closed, Dalton sniffed. Pine scent mingled with sweat and…wet dog hair. He uncurled from the fetal position and blinked in the light of a dewy morning in the woods. The odors came from his skin, naked and trembling in the cold. He checked his fingernails to confirm. Blood, bits of raw flesh. His gut wrenched.

He moaned and dragged himself to his feet. He found east by the rising sun. Alone and lost, he had to get home without clothes and, somehow, conceal the curse—again—from Brittney. She wouldn’t be happy when he bought another pair of shoes.


Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers: 100-word stories

photo prompt: Loretta Notto