On My Ex's Brother's Bed
I worked.
I buried myself in emails, proposals, schedules—anything to make the world feel normal again. I didn’t even notice how late it had gotten until my screen started to blur from the strain.
I shut my laptop, stretched, and grabbed my phone. Just for distraction, I opened a random video and let it play.
One clip led to another. And somehow, I found myself deep in a rabbit hole of cryptozoology videos, voiceovers, blurry woods.
I watched a shaky documentary about how some werewolves weren’t bitten at all. Some were born into it. Some lived hidden lives in cities, hiding their senses, their strength. They could heal faster. See in the dark. Move without sound.
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