What the Wolf Wants (Short Story‪)‬

So, it's the middle of the night and there's this wolf at my window. He stands like a man on his back legs. His hindquarters bulge, all muscly and stuff. He's so silver he'd almost be blue in the moonlight, were there moonlight. But this is the suburbs, so, instead, he's almost blue in the lamplight, the streetlights, back porch security lights, light from the flicker of across-the-street tvs, the radiant glow spilling out of downtown. A lot of artificial illumination 'round these parts, is what I'm getting at. Delusions aren't new to me. This last year, I haven't been getting much sleep. But, the longer I stare at the wolf, the more I realize he's no delusion-this one's real.