They Say Don't Get Clocked

Can this trans woman get from the back seat of this sweltering car trapped in rush hour gridlock to a safe place before the full moon turns her into a hairy, clawed killing machine? Probably not. 

4,000 words of lycanthropic trans catharsis, written in the Spring of 2022, when shit was getting especially bad. If you can make it to the end of this, you will probably feel better.

Contains two interior illustrations by Tandye Rowe.

Content warning: implied transphobia, gender dysphoria, body horror, nudity, werewolf transformation, gore.