Snow Day

Muted street sounds from outside Dr. Ari Stein's brownstone and Eva's long hair tickling his hairless naked body woke him. Leaving the warmth of their bed he pushed the window curtains back. He howled with delight at the dancing snowflakes and the steady accumulation of crystalline art. Two identical flakes stuck to the glass to document his handiwork.

His neighbor, Art, trudged through the perfect white powder covering the sidewalk. Jovial, he threw his head back and caught a series of falling flakes in his mouth.

"Three, two …" counted down Ari.

At one, Art collapsed like a sack of ice salt. His body convulsed and contorted as his joints expanded to accommodate the rapid metabolic transformation of his DNA. Minutes later, torn clothing was all that remained. The newly formed wolf lunged over the hood of a slow-moving truck and disappeared down the alley across the street.

"Owoooo," howled Ari.

A chilling growl rumbled behind him, and he turned to face an orange-eyed, seven-foot-long timber wolf standing on the bed.

"You never were a morning wolf, Eva. It's working. Come watch."

Eva leaped from the bed to stand beside him and rest her massive gray head against his chest.

Outside, three kids engaged in a snowball fight. Two collapsed to the ground and experienced the brutal transformation to a Canid. Repulsed, the third turned to run but minutes later, hunted down, his blood splattered the pure white snow red.

"See Queen Eva, no more waiting for full moons."