25 October 2009

The Bear.

The bear awakens from her deep sleep. She is hungry. No, hungry isn't the right word. She is famished, ravenous. She will eat anything that crosses her path.
She cannot help herself, and goes searching for food. She finds nothing in her den.
She ventures out into the nearby forest and again finds nothing. The other, bigger, hungrier bears have cleared all the food away while she was sleeping. This leaves her no choice but to wander further into the concrete jungle. Half way through her joruney she pauses frantically, and thinks,
"What are you doing?! You can't do this! Don't you want to be a skinny, pretty bear?"
Another voice answers her thought.
"Eat. Eat. Eat. Feast. Today is your feast day. Feast. Eat. Eat. Eat."
So she does. The bear will eat and eat and east and feast and feast and feast.
And tommorow? Tomorrow, she will starve.


  1. Sorry, bear. But you're not a bear, you're a crane, a whippoorwhill, an elegant bittern. Spare and spindly, picking at the water for bubbles to eat, because your stomach is so small, and your metabolism so slow, that the tiny dancing water things you ate yesterday have filled you so much you can't eat hardly today. See? You're not a bear.

  2. i love this, i have days where this is exactly how i feel.
    you will do just fine bear<3

  3. oh oh i know this story

    i am a little bear too!

    we need to make a food-free cave, ok?