Jim’s shadow never seemed to fit. However close he came to the surface upon which his shadow was cast, his fingers always seemed longer, his head a little too small.
As a child he found it amusing, but his embarrassment grew with age to the point where he would avoid going out in full sun and avoided rooms with harsh lighting. Not that anyone ever noticed. Only Jim could see the antics of his shadow.
By the time he was fourteen his parents had discovered that their beautiful child had a problem. His shifts in behaviour occurred around the time of every full moon. Child psychiatrists were no help and when he killed the family pet they gave up and threw him out. His long shadows had been an early indication of his true nature: Jim was a lycanthrope.