Small Tales for the Hurried - Number Five

Gretchen was her name. Cute blond curls. A skip in her step. Not a care in the world. You know the story.

One day Gretchen’s ball rolls into the deep, dark forest. Oooh! I know. You can see where this is going. Right?

Anyway, the ball rolls into the deep, dark forest and gets eaten by a ravenous black bear. What? I know. I know. I’m bear profiling, right? Why a black bear, you’re saying. Why not a brown bear or a polar bear. Why a bear at all? Why couldn’t the ball be eaten by a ravenous zebra?

Okay, okay, have it your way, the ball gets eaten by a ravenous zebra. But the ball becomes lodged in the zebra’s throat. Seeing this, the black bear performs the Heimlich maneuver, dislodging the ball, which rolls back out of the deep, dark forest and into the hands of Gretchen.

A lovely story. The end. Right? Except that the ravenous bear and zebra now have Gretchen’s scent up their snouts and give chase.

Well, you know the rest. Poor little Gretchen.

Happy? Well, next time write your own damn story. I was doing fine until you all butted in! In my story the bear would have been happy just to have eaten the ball. Gretchen would have said, “No big deal. My mom will buy me another.” Then she'd have skipped home and had a nice warm bowl of porridge. End of story.

Now you people have blood on your hands. You ought to be ashamed.