That Time of the Month

Short story about being a werewolf in the big city

“Not tonight,” I said into the phone.

“I don’t mind,” my boyfriend explored. “We could just curl up on the couch and watch TV.”

“l really sorry, I’m just not comfortable doing that right now…”

“Oh… yeah.. ok, some other time then.”

I felt like s**t. Both from the PLS and the disappointment in my boyfriend’s voice. I put the phone down and sneezed.

At least it felt like a sneeze. I looked down at my paws and then over my shoulder at my suddenly stretched out shirt. Just what I needed. I stepped out of my pants, shaking my hips to free my tail and tore off the shirt.

I looked my self over in the hopes that somehow I had become the lean, sleek wolf of legend. Nope. I was still pudgy and ginger colored. I looked more like a spoiled house dog than a fierce hunting monster. I huffed. At least a pudgy, ginger human fit in. 

My stomach growled. My nails clicked as I padded over to the kitchen and did my version of hunting for dinner, but nothing appealed to me. 

Screw it. I wanted pasta. Specifically meat ravioli from Anthony’s down the street.

I walked over to my ACC device and began stomping on the buttons that would open the restaurant’s website. I barely had to look as I made my order. I always craved Anthony’s right after a shift.

I looked at the pick up time, thirty minutes. Perfect. It was only a ten minute walk, but it always took longer when I was on all fours. I shrugged into my carry harness, a must for any city werewolf, and pawed open the door.

“Hey doggy, want a treat?” my neighbor asked as I emerged.

Of course I would run into him. Ted was a werehare, slim and athletic from his vegan diet and hobby of cross country running. One of these days our cycle would sink and there would be a little accident… wishful thinking, I knew.

As if he had read my thoughts Ted gave me a condescending smile, “You’ll have to catch me first,” he said as he let himself into his apartment.

After the door clicked I snarled, but it was just for show. He only changed at the dark of the moon and I only changed at the full. Still it was nice to daydream.

I trotted outside, bracing myself for the usual onslaught. The street smells, asphalt, car exhaust, hot concrete, trash, pigeon, rat, and the innumerable traces left by people. All the usual city scents, amplified just for me. I really wished I had the money to take off to the woods the way my cousin did during his time.

“Mommy! Look at the dog! Why doesn’t it have a leash?” a little girl with an annoyingly high voice said.

I shook my head. I was just being petty. She was probably a very sweet child and I was just having a bad day

“Oh, don’t look honey,” her mother said, glancing at me from the corner of her eye. “It’s better not to associate with that sort.”

The woman took her daughter’s hand in a grip that made the little girl squirm and whine and dragged her to the other side of the street.

Never mind, I thought, even if she’s a nice kid now it probably won’t last.

The light began to beep and I trotted across the street, trying to put both unpleasant encounters out of my mind.

Anthony’s was a hole in the wall tucked into a side alley, the main entrance far from the view of the main street. It might have been a speak easy back in the day, but I had never taken the time to find out. Maybe I would remember to ask next time I came here as a human.

I batted at the button someone had thoughtfully placed about knee high to the average biped and the door swung open. One of my favorite things about Anthony’s was how easy it was to navigate in either form.

I strolled in, feeling comfortable since the first time I had shifted. 

There was something soothing about the old Italian restaurant during the off hours. The lighting was dim, the only source of illumination in the seating area was a few knock off Tiffany stained glass hanging lamps. In most places that would be to disguise the quality of the food, here I thought the reason might be to hide the quality of the clientele. 

It was mostly empty, but there were always a few people hanging about. Today it was a short, stumpy troll in the corner nursing something that smoked slightly and smelled of sulphur. Taking a whiff I looked at the drinker again. Not a troll, a rock goblin. I should have known. Mostly troll stayed by the docks, preferring to keep to themselves. Goblins of all types on the other hand mingled freely with any other species and didn’t give a rat’s tail about who they made uncomfortable.

This one looked up and gave a little wave as I passed. “Hey Ginger,” he said in a voice that was both high pitched and gravely.

I wagged my tail a bit to indicate I had heard him, but kept walking. If I let him get started I would be there for hours. While I enjoyed his company most days it was practically impossible to get out of a conversation with him when I was in wolf form.

I sped up a bit to show him I was in a hurry and he went back to staring morosely into his mug. I made a note to ask him about his troubles when I had my ACC device on me, or human vocal cords, whichever came first.

I passed by the old arcade machines and they chirped and blinked excitedly in their ancient plastic edifices. I loved these machines, they were straight out of a time capsule with their oversized boxy casings and tiny screens. I stopped to check the high scores. I had dropped to second place on my favorite. What a time to be without thumbs. I promised myself vengeance on Sniper283 as soon as possible. 

“Gin’g!” A cheerful blonde in a black t-shirt advertising slices of Heaven with the Anthony’s logo written large underneath popped out of the kitchen like some sort of djinn. Not that she had any djinn blood that I knew of.

She smiled, “Still not a djinn,” she said as if reading my mind. “If I was would I be working in a dive like this?”

I woofed and wagged my tail. Good dog, I thought self depreciatingly.

She smiled again. Tina smiled a lot, I wasn’t sure if it was a product of her customer service training or her excitable personality.

“I’ll have your meal ready to go in a minute. Extra meat, no charge. We girls have to stick together.”

As she popped back into the kitchen I saw a rotund man with curly black hair pulling food out of the oven. My mouth watered and I licked my chops. Then, embarrassed by my canine behavior I surreptitiously peeked around to make sure no one was looking.

Of course Tina was standing there, still all smiles. The box that would hook to my carry harness dangling from one finger. 

I felt my tail start to tuck.

She laughed, “It’s great to get an honest review on our food from time to time.”

I tipped my head and wagged just the tip of my tail.

Tina attached my takeout box. “Alright, you’re all set. Bring that boy of yours next time. Uncle Tony wants to get a good look at him and see if he’s good enough for our girl.”

For once I was glad of the fur so she couldn’t see me blush. 

I went home. Most of the people on the street ignored me the way they did every other passerby they encountered, which got me thinking. Tina and her Uncle and most of the people in my neighborhood didn’t seem to care what shape I was in. The thought gave me a bit of confidence and I ate my dinner in a thoughtful frame of mind.

I was always self conscious about my shape, but did other people view it the same way? Obviously some did, but Tina didn’t and neither did Uncle Tony. But that woman on the street had treated me like I was diseased. Maybe it would be better to just limit my social circle to people I knew could deal with it? Why was everything about this complicated.

Licking the last remnants of sauce from the corner of the takeout container I made a decision and started typing before the uncertainty of everything could overwhelm me. 

I queued up my sentence on my ACC device and hit redial.

“Hey, Ginger. Sorry if I was insensitive before. I didn’t mean to push you if you aren’t ready. I mean you’re so great I just wanted to get to know you better and…”

My boyfriend’s words rushed out of the speaker before trailing off awkwardly. As he stopped for breath I pushed the button.

“Do you still want to come over?” A robotic voice asked.

“If… if it’s ok,” his voice was hesitant, but happy. “I’ll be over in a half an hour or so.”

I hit another button. “Ok.” And hung up the phone. 

I felt brave and scared. Nervous and excited. I guess I would know in thirty minutes whether my next take out from Anthony’s would be for one person or two.

Reviews

[emipoemi]

the moment the revelation that the PLS (not PMS?) meant turning into a werewolf, I instantly thought about that Boy Meets World episode that uses the werewolf transformation as an analogy for puberty, which was hilarious. And here, you using it as a metaphor for menstruation (provided I understood the story), which is absolutely brilliant. But it's undermined by the fact that Ginger lives in a world where everybody changes at a certain time, and the only place where people can seemingly be themselves is Anthony's. We never get a real sense as to who anyone is in this story, and if Ginger can't talk as a wolf (great touch) how does anyone know who she is - I had thought Ginger was what they called her because she had ginger fur; nobody knew her name. Granted she does say that she goes there even in human form, but you never specify that they know she turns into an inarticulate wolf during that specific time of the month. Don't be afraid to give the whole story. There are beats that need to be elaborated on to give this story life, moments that take away from allowing this story to breathe - redundancy and contradictions that shouldn't be mentioned (and careful with typos). You have a wild imagination and great ideas - and this particular story isn't short of fantastic, you just need to configure it so that it flows and brings the reader along for the ride. All the way. I wouldn't need to enumerate the parts that need fixing as the concepts are similar to the other story I commented on - beef up the narrative; add the root vegetables with the thematic beats and transition via the sauce of that ravioli. If this is a world where everyone changes at a certain time, what was the point with the mother and child? (why can everyone read her mind?) Tina pops everywhere like she is a djinn - we don't need that explained fully but adding more meat to the idea that she hides that she's a djinn would be funny. Again, if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask. Because you have something, but you still have a way's to go in order to craft the utter brilliance that this story has to offer.

[Lyra]

I really, really, really appreciate the feedback! Thank you so much for your time and thoughtful response!

So the background for this piece is I’ve read a few posts on various social media where people are looking for “magic is an everyday thing”, the example I read was someone asking why the world didn’t have psychic hairdressers who knew exactly what you wanted your hair to look like. So I wanted to do a series of short stories thinking about what a world like that would look like, magic is everywhere and people are accustomed to it to some extent. So I thought what would it be like if all the complications of being magic in a current modern world would look like and my brain immediately went to how we treat disabled people and people who are different for one reason or another. There are definitely safe places, like Anthony’s and there are always people with the “don’t look at the lesser person” attitude. And of course every range in between… my What to Wear story is set in the same world and I have half of one where a med student is applying to be a hospital voodoo doctor, an idea for a teen gumiho complaining to her friends in the karaoke room about her boyfriend forgetting her after their first kiss (ala Kiss Goblin), and a half demon who is refused service on a date because of her species. I’ve also thought about a longer piece giving full background to the world, but I have a couple of things I have to finish for a friend that have gotten out of control.

That being said… I would love some help on the transitions especially the one between the encounter on the street and her going into Anthony’s, I could go over the street itself more or maybe the neighborhood people… I’m not sure which one would set the scene better so I ended up copping out on it. If you have any advice I would be incredibly grateful.

As for Tina I have no idea what species she is. She could be a djinn she could be something completely different (I need to do some mythological research), but she could probably be her own short story at some point!

[emipoemi]

You know what I recommend? A series of short stories from this world. 12, 14, maybe 16 (you could even do 20 if you're feeling it). Story 1 is the intro to the world itself or something of the sort and the rest are different characters that inhabit it. Tina could be a protagonist but, honestly, I think she packs a better punch as a minor character that flits about between certain stories (like have people overlap). Because, I do see potential in this. It's a brilliant idea. Your writing calibre just needs some toning and I'd be more than happy to help you there. You just have to trust in the craft and don't plan for short - then you just slop over major factors and it looks like something a camera catches for a film rather than the building blocks for a story. The key is to let the story flow - every line elicits the next. You can't built a building without a foundation - it would collapse in on itself - and you can't build a road without the boundary for the road - that determines how wide and long it would go. In order to do that, you need to take the steps. Take the beginning of this wolf story, for instance: She gets off with her boyfriend, sneezes (funny touch), and looks at herself - good. The only thing that felt off was the description of the ripped shirt as she looks back in order to notice it - why back and not around?. Not everybody knows what an acc device is or what it's used for (I had to look it up), and you don't need to spell it out here (it's not advisable to spoon-feed readers with this type of info) but it would be good to give us idea as to where it is (on the side table? coffee table? kitchen counter?), maybe even fumbling to pick it up (so we know that it's portable) before opting to just pound the screen and whatnot. When we meet Rock Goblin, I like that we bypass him because he's chatty but we don't understand exactly why she would do that, right? No need for spoon-feeding, it's just some food for thought that you need to beef up the scenes and make them bolder in order to really bring your readers in - otherwise it's just intriguing characters (because your characters are intriguing, no doubt) in a bland world that doesn't seem to compliment their intriguing-ness. In What to Wear, as mentioned, you don't set anything up and expect us to follow. It's punchy and good in that regard but some info is necessary at specific points in the story in order to a) remind readers of scenario and flow and b) pack a bigger punch at the ending. So it really is just a matter of feeling your way through the story. Act it out to yourself if you have to (I've felt it helps). It gives you the physical sensation of what's happening in a certain instant.

I can only explain so much via writers cafe (I can only explain so much regardless, as writing is a very spiritual experience - you have to feel, not think), but try your hand at these techniques and if you want me to look at other drafts, just let me know. I'd be more than happy.

[Lyra]

I would appreciate that so very much! Let me work on a couple of re writes (I have a few other things I’m working on as well, so I have a tendency to jump around) and if you are amenable I would love to hear your thoughts.

Thank you again!!!

[emipoemi]

you just let me know when you're ready and I'll take a look.

[Mamalou]

Even in wolf form, we women are self-conscious of our bodies, as very few of us fit the beauty industry "norm". Great read!