I'm in a strange moon mood. It seems that each passing month the pull of La Luna gets more intense. My soul is restless. I don't mean just stirred up a little. I mean restless... wild rampage restless. I mean, I wish I had a punching bag restless.
In the book The Talisman, by Stephen King and Peter Straub, the protagonist, a boy named Jack, meets up with a very kind orange-eyed creature of a guy in a parallel world (aka The Territories) - a guy very aptly named Wolf. Wolf is a huge man, but a simpleton who needs watching in much the same way a child does. Wolfs (not wolves, which you'd know if you read the book) are shepards in their world. So, he's happiest under an open sky with the scent of nature in his nostrils. Anything more stimulating than that pretty much over taxes him. He hates our world (with the exception of popcorn). "Like it," Wolf muttered. "How could anyone like it, Jack? And the smells..."
I hear ya, Wolf!
Anyway, as the moon grows fuller, Wolf is self-aware enough to know that he will be a threat to Jack. Jack is his herd and he has to keep the herd safe at all costs, god pound it! They find a shed and Jack locks himself in. As the night approaches and Jack sees the full moon start to rise, he hears a spine-chilling, ululating cry in the distant woods. Wolf is on the prowl, on the hunt. Later Jack wakes to hear growling, snuffling, and lip-smacking sounds at the shed door.
I'm Wolf. I'm that kind of restless. I want to trip the wild fantastic. I'm also Jack. I just want the moon to pass and have my sweet, simple buddy back again. I've barely slept in two nights. Yesterday I walked, I laughed, I sang, I cried, I danced, I cleaned, I cried, I laughed, I prowled, I wrote, I ate, I talked, cried, laughed, sang... I did everything but feel peace. Enough with the searchlight. Really. Enough! I give, already. Laws yes, wolf!