My brother calls them the wolf hairs, the dark hairs that grow out of strange places or hairs of unusual length from otherwise normal patches. Eyebrows begin to lengthen as the old hairs fall out and are replaced by bizarre cilia that loom over and menace the remaining hairs, as if these mere hairs were but lonely, sarcastic, video store employees. I believe there may be frequent exchanges of milk money.
There are the other patches of wolf hairs. They creep and crawl and slither their way across my body. I recently conducted and extensive survey, utilizing all of my archaeological and primatological techniques, and was amazed and frightened by the results. While I am not Greek, I find myself contemplating forgoing sweaters in the next winter season.
There are odd patterns in the patches. If I stare at them too long, I begin to notice scripts and symbols. I can almost make them out. I think that one is a star and then that one might be a ... oh no.