Tiffany stared at the ceiling through red-rimmed eyes. Every so often, she sniffled and sighed, rolling from her left side to her right side, back and forth. A thick nondescript gray blanket hung off the edge of her hard cot. She’d used it briefly during the night until she couldn’t stand the way it scratched against her bare arms. Instead, she lay in a small ball, hands gripping her arms tightly. Gray pre-dawn light filtered through the small window overhead.
Time seemed to stop for her; she couldn’t tell how long she’d been in the tiny room. She’d screamed and cried and cursed until her throat was raw. …
This is part one of the “sketch” series. Rough draft little stories put together quickly. In this one, a man and woman are test subjects. One changing from man to woman, the other changing into a werewolf.
My head hurts. Badly.
And I’m cold.
My eyes crack open and the headache flares as the overhead lights drill deep into my skull.
I can’t remember where I am. I left work. I remember that. Night time. Damn project due for presentation tomorrow to our clients and they changed their RFP the day before. I was walking home and… and… and what? I can’t remember.…