My inner werewolfette was left baying at the moon, pawing at the earth for the cosmic, the glorious, the fiery orange of those harvest orbs buried deep in memory. It was not to be – city haunts were found wanting: I should have headed for higher ground where the hunting was better…
Soft Zinnias sleep under the clouds
as the moon reaches its Zenith
having travelled the Zodiac
Zone after Zone
she is Zealous
Zoom in on the entries in Frizztext’s Story Challenge: Tagged “Z”.