Ellen Page

December 22, 2011
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I gaze at her.
Her brown hair flowing down her hips.
She stares at me.

“Hi....” I stammer, as spit drools from my gaping mouth.
My face is like an evening sky suffused with red.

Ellen approaches me.
Steam emerges from my ears, and my heart throbs.

My eyes curvet from the socket, and my tongue leaps out.

“Settle down,” I whisper to myself.

“Hey, Zane,” she whispers.
Suddenly, a howl leaps from my throat.
A lupine howl accompanied by a while.





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