There was an eclipse party. It wasn’t my party. I didn’t host it. But it was I who told everyone about it. The eclipse. I am the Keeper of Such Knowledge.
About a dozen folks were gathered around a fire ring when I emerged from the shadows armed with my camera. Animated debates and laughter bounced among the lunar celebrants. (And it occurs to me, if there were a dozen eclipse seekers, I made it thirteen. That would not have been a coincidence. Not here. Not with these people.)
I set up my camera and took a few shots of the moon for the sake of my meters, wondering how the hell I ended up here, celebrating a lunar eclipse in the Sonora desert with people who are essentially strangers. What’s the universe up to? And what happens to a werewolf during a lunar eclipse?