THE URGE

It is Friday night, a good time for Friday Fictioneers.  We like to tell stories of 100 or so words according to a photo prompt.  We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple, author of Say Kaddish for Me, From Silt and Ashes and other books.  Congrats, Rochelle on your book launch.  Here’s my 100 humble words for this week.

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Dusk had fallen. Night coming fast.  The urge stirred in his belly.  He sucked in his breath. Clenching his abdominal muscles, he willed all to be still inside.  He did not want to give in and lose himself.  A growl rumbled in the back of his throat.  He clawed at his neck.  Hair was growing on the back of his hands.

He glanced upward.  A sliver of moon slid out between the clouds.  Can he hide from it? Can he hang on?  He ducked into the darkness within the walls.  Damn, too late!  He raised his head and howled.

23 thoughts on “THE URGE

  1. Now this is a perfect spot for such a transformation to happen. I like the idea of him hiding from the moon as if that would change anything. Nice one, Lily.

  2. Well described. He resists each stage in his transformation but is powerless to resist.Fantastic ending – the howl becomes his expression of despair.

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