I get bored sometimes and have to make words happen. This is a short piece I wrote to serve as a character intro to the Bear with No Name, or Bear, as he is known to some.

Part 2

“My old dad used to say…”

I’m no story teller, so I looked around for ways to start. I like that one; “My old dad used to say…”. It’s kind of humble, one step from “a better man than I once said”, but with more hope, with family attached.

Well…I never had a father. Never had a mother, either. I guess some time in the past there was the cold sting of a needle, thrusting in and out of some innocent roll of fabric; some violent act of penetration that gave rise to yours truly…but that doesn’t seem much like a mum and dad to me…and if it does to you, I think you need help.

I guess there was the Old Lady; gave me as a present to the Kid. My first memory; the light as he tore away the paper and my first hug. Good times. Good Kid.

So – my old dad never said anything. I’ve got no old wisdom to work on, no sage advice to follow. Not even a prophecy to fulfil. I’m on my own. I haven’t even got a plan. Sometimes it feels like I’ve lost already; the last remnant of a golden age, taking a few devils down with him as he finally drowns beneath a furry red tide of evil bastard squirrels.

If that’s the case, then so be it. A world without hope is one that I’m happy to leave behind…but if I’m wrong, if there is still hope, if there is still a way to smack the furry red face, to silence the stomp of the squirrel jackboot, then I will cut my way through every twitchy-nosed bastard that stands between me and it.

Part 2

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