Well, Yeah XVIII

A terror grips me as I skip through the daisies. This particular terror has been present in my subconscious for several months prior to this moment, and as I glance over my shoulder, a bear stands several dozen yards behind me in the clearing. I release all the stress and disillusionment from my being, as I know bears sensing fear will instinctively go for the jugular. Once I go limp, the bear saunters directly over to me. Mind you, there is no malice in this bear’s gait, nor do I feel any ill will emanating from its movements. I stand and watch the bear come ever closer. Foot by foot, it’s taking its time. It stops two feet in front of me and sits upon its haunches, waiting for me to do something. I blow it a kiss and wink. The bear looks puzzled. I giggle for a few seconds. The bear looks more puzzled. I reach out with my right arm, and the bear retreats a few inches before it realizes that I mean no harm whatsoever. It inches up to my hand with its snout and gives it a good whiff. I then gingerly rub the fur on top of its snout, to show my good nature and desire to be friends. The bear opens its mouth: “Never have I seen a human of your caliber in this daisy field. Would you like to ride on my back and go to a pond with me?” I immediately fling myself onto its back and grab hold of one of its ears. Little do I know that bears hate when anyone touches their ears. It yelps in self-consciousness and lumbers away. I shrug and go on my way.


Author: Aidan Badinger

Wharved.com I am a poet. I write poems. Titles and subjects and subsequent readership are all part of one fragmented figment of our universe, and it's nice that we take it so seriously. Hopefully the craft remains and grows stronger for our children.

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