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Hey Wolf

by Abigail Ashing
The wolf is smoking a cigarette and wearing leather. He's a joke, she thinks, an afterschool special.
He carries groceries for old ladies. Seriously, he does. What a cliche. She shrugs off her red hoodie.
He watches her pile cans of soup in paper bags. He uses the food pantry where they work. Too bad, he thinks, I'm no prince charming.
She hands him a sack. There's a cake, two steak sandwiches, and a bottle of wine. The pantry doesn't distribute these.
"Hey Wolf," her note reads, "picnic today at 3?"
He meets her outside the graffiti covered community center when they stop handing out food at 3 pm.
She takes his hand and they walk toward the park. He loves the feeling of her clawed fingers interlocking with his.
The End
This story was first published on Thursday, April 6th, 2017
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