the full moon hangs huge, ominously in the blac sky. pregnant. heavy. milky white and glowing. she, like you, emits a low growl, almost like a constant hum. too low for human ears to register, but she calls to you and you alone.
your human thoughts blur, phasing in an out of your confused mind — lesson plaN to prepArRe. must grade lASt homework befORe bed. hMm. the thoughts are there, you see them but theyre slightly confused and you desperately try to keep your sanity for the moment knowing full well whats to come. youre well versed in the moons hum, her sultry yet demanding tones vibrating from your heels to your inner ear bones. grade. book. class? what tIMe is it
youre leaving working, a nice english teaching course. the mild mannered, slightly anxious novice teacher. eager to learn and to teach. friendly and receptive to criticism. at least on the surface. icandothismyselfiftheydfucking. leave me thefuckalonemaybe. disorganized thoughts — your coworkers know you as slightly disorganized, sure, but you teach a fun, spontaneous class. imagine if they knew iftheyfuckingknewif.they.fuckin.knew.
theyd just commit you again
shes in the inky sky, stars obscured by your citys constant dull glow. the light is greasy and yellow yet she in the evening sky looks up haughtily, smirking. she hums a one note song only you can hear. its time to leave work. your head, its fucking splitting.
nevermind the invitations to go out for a drink with your coworkers — youre a recluse, an average sized brown dude but also a reclusive — you joke that youre a brown recluse and its best to stay away. the joke doesnt seem to work very well. sheepish smile. maybe one drink. she stares in disapproval but one drink….cant hurt anyone.
do you hear that no what are you talking about hey what kind of beer are we getting not that fuckin itaipaiva shit for fucks sake — the hums so fuckin loud right now, louder than the din at the bar or the conversation at the table. youre grinning stupidly. so what if they know, youve had a few drinks, theyve had a few drinks, so what if they know.
so fuckin what
hey man youre uh, whats going on there. blood in your glass. things are sharper. your vision — you can see every molecule of blood mingling into the beer. your teeth, nicking and clacking against your lips. sharper too. laugh it off, truly grotesque laughing with a mouthful of blood but you swallow it because everything goes well with a glass of shit local beer huh. the hums louder. a warning.
man i gotta go. throwing way too much cash on the table but you gotta go. the hum, shes calling you. leave. go. leave. the ground is fucking filthy but you want to get closer to it. shove your fucking claws into the asphalt, take off. for a moment, you touch the disgusting ground littered with piss and beer cans and used condoms. the hum intensifies, your bones rattle. there it is.
see you monday? yeah. monday.
teeth full of blood — your blood — head full of humming, the most beautiful celestial noises on earth. so low but just loud enough for you to pick up on. class…next lesson, five and six. pOsitive. tense chANges, theyll love it. im sure.
croach on the side of the road. youre getting glares — youre trying to sing along to the beautifully ethereal hum but its coming out RRRrrrrrrrrrrRHRRGGGGGRGGGggggggrrrrhhhrhh instead, some insane fucking gutteral growling. shes pleased, she knows youre trying your fucking best.
pregnant. heavy in the sky with its white milky purity. irresistable. a kind of beauty youll never see again. you want to beg it to never leave. walking every few paces, stare up into her bright humming face high above yours. you mourn your distance. shes so far. and youre so insignificant.
the sound comes from your chest, the deep gravel-crunching snarling, i love you, i love you, i love you and only you. i love you. I LOVE YOU. your teeth glisten, saliva slipping past your lips and down your chin. youve no concern for your mortal form or those staring at you on the street in hushed voices.
she is here, humming, her glow for you and only you. she accepts your animalistic grunts and feable howls. the hum, only you can hear it. the rest of them, who cares how they see you. it is a message for you and you are responding. love whispers to the moon.
unashamed. unafraid. love whispers from deep in your throat, where youve since ceased to form proper words and have instead created a language of intensity, of love, of pure primal raw instinct. on a crowded street at the bus stop, there is no one but you and the moon, her glowing humming pregnant face awaiting another animalistic grunt from your end, another proclamation of love from deep within your chest.
the neighborhood strays howl, scatter. they hear the hum too, and they fear it. but you, having the faculties of a higher being, you fear nothing. how could you? it is you and the moon, the mistress who follows you patiently across every part of the greasy glow of your dying city.
moon sickness, love sickness, youre neither man nor animal but some unhappy combination of the two or perhaps neither. savage, driven entirely by the whims of a distant pale object. reduced to grunting, shrieking, howling — it all means i love you! i love you! please dont leave me!
and still dawn arrives and neither you in all your beastly strength and wits nor your moon lover can prevent the suns light washing over a skeletal city. a brilliantly white moon fades into a spectacularly orange, yellow, blue sky. a lovesick lycanthrope finds his way home, exhausted, and discovers he is once again a teacher with a class to teach and lessons to prepare.
the sun rose. the maddness has ended.
you begged. but the moon, even she could not stop the sun. what is the point if you cannot always spend your hours pining for one another? more animal than human even in the sun, you, the teacher, you merely continue. class. lessons. must prepare. disorganized as ever. the moon will return. next month. next month.