Chow Hound

This was written for the Menage Monday flash fiction contest at

Menage Monday challenges entrants to create an original work of fiction, 200 words or less, based on three prompts; a photographic prompt, a specific phrase that must appear in the story, and a thematic prompt.  Today’s thematic prompt was ‘werewolf story’.

Chow Hound

I came to like I always did the morning after a full moon.

Naked. Nauseas. Covered in cuts and scratches. My joints hurt and it was a fight to keep my head clear while wolf senses reverted to the oblivious state of humanity.

It was always the same– the change, a night I couldn’t remember, and waking up near a pile of bones in the hollow I’d made my home away from home.

I blinked and looked around for Emily. She should have been there.

There was a rustling off to my left and there was just enough wolf in me to catch her scent.

She stepped out from behind a bush and buttoned her jeans as she walked over to me.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said.


“You were quite the animal last night. Woof.”


“How do you feel?”

“A little sick to my stomach.”

She reached into her pack and tossed me some overalls.

“Not surprised. You had some bad Mexican last night. Straight. No chaser.”

“Anyone I know?”

“One of the Cholo brothers. Very bad man. The survivor’s barking mad.”

“Barking mad,” I said. “That’s funny.”


Posted on July 16, 2012, in Menage Monday. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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