How Virgina Wolf Became A Wolf

Once upon a time on Halloween Eve. as the moon gulp the night with predators lurking the rosemary bushes, in Jamestown, Virgina there lived Virgina Wolf who had copies of grammar books of William Shakespeare, when he learned to pen with wit, "To Be Or Not Be; That Is The Question" and Virgina Wolf is indeed a werewolf without a question mark at the end.

As the crisp leaves of Autumn scream about the season---"it's fall!" The pitter-patter feet of children in potato sake backpacks saunter to school, the school mistress Virgina Wolf prepares a grammar lesson with her last name Ms. Virgina "Wherewolf" not Ms. Virgina "Werewolf" because she is always seventy minutes late and carries herself with a question mark, where is Ms. Virgina WHEREwolf? "Where" because with her tardy teacher-ness the virginian school children ponder "WHERE?" she is on Halloween morning of Halloween day. Not Ms.Virgina "Werewolf" because on the hallways of Halloween day, hair sprouted like invasive plants on the entirety of Virgina Wherewolf, not "Werewolf" because a wolf indeed she metaphorsed.

As Virgina Wolf became Virgina Wherewolf for name-sake reasons, and scared the library bookcovers off, leaving them spineless and a nightmare for a readers and bookworms of Jamestown Elementary school. The hair that grew in waves on Ms.Virgina Wolf who became a Wherewolf got lost in her infinite black hole hair, like an astronomer marooned on an unnamed planet, with masses of hair you cannot fathom who she is!

Pseudyom the abnormal werewolf hair turned Virgina Wolf WHO IS NOW A WHEREWOLF into an anon pseudyom with a livid bloodstream and a pulsating sentimental heart, I wish I could tell you, her fingers with claws had pens with all the great authors and therefore: pen-names. To erase her identity and write under a penname, Ms Virgina Wherewolf who lost her gender who endangered her career, "like a rare orchard on the himalayas are women who write" said her husband who sometimes question "HOW" for social mores and status quo that are fired o bonfires as s'mores! The snores of her sometimes TOO-sweet husband who paid heed for kindness-sake and snored "ZZZZZZZ" on her manuscripts that would get stomped by him, while resting on the armchair, zebra footprints on her manuscripts.

The all- too bland comments of her husband, that showed the attention span of a simpleton without caring a ton, the heavy-ness of this pitch dark hole that formed in the outerspace of Ms.Virgina Wolf WHO WAS NOW A WOLF ON HALLOWEEN DAY, left her with gnawing, grumbling, eating stars in infinity yearn-- she yearned for a true connection that would transport her satellite heart transmissions a sense of fulfillment by her partner, the How-WOLF husband that would zebra stampede and leave black footprints on her manuscript.

"A Room Of One's Own" Virgina Wolf WHO WAS NOW A WHEREWOLF BECAUSE OF HALLOWEEN DAY, had to get a room of her own, as the solitude abandoned her writing now and the neediness of a husband with all-too-bland commentaries stopped her from always needing, a commentary that was as full of depth as the many questions the universe has to answer, that the autumn season would shriek in despair, but not to Ms. Virgina Wolf-Wherewolf who liked it when her brain would gaze, a billion star questions with a ready answer.

Where was Ms.Virgina WHEREwolf's "A Room OF One's own?" a rooftop, her room was on a rooftop by the winks and wrinkles of the moon who had a story hidden centuries ago "Hey, diddle, diddle, the cow jumped over the moon" and her thoughts jumped just like cows do on a blank piece of paper that eats the intellect of this female's brain, Virgina was too smart for her HOW-WOLF too bland of a husband that was guided to the room on the rooftop with a Ephinay that was a translucent as the moon-light, brilliant.

As his footsteps sang a song with the wind and his wife heard the all-too familiar sound of a marriage that is age-purple old from the bruises of obstacles. Marriages are mazes to figure iceskate until you find a center of a labyrinth and the paths are clear of confusion.....

The pepper shaker seasoned the season in Jamestown, Virgina in where her marriage stopped rhyming with the word mirage and reality sweeped the town with a more lively union that is meant "until death do us apart" and her hair vanished as the sun opened it's eyes and it's breath left a mist that accompanied the world in a franz litz mephisto waltz, waltzes, waltzes the fog and dewdrops of the leaves went as the sky opened with light and knowledge. The world was fogged on early morn of November first in SOME CENTURY, but not for the brilliant union of Ms.Virgina Wolf who was not an anon werewolf with a How-wolf husband who now knew how to answer HOW? he conjured. The thrush birds sang of wedding renewals and the Wolf couple who are still "one" under God's word. THE END.