“Once AGAIN, I remind you that NO ANIMALS are allowed in the classroom during an examination.”
Jeremy patted the enormous grizzly bear’s head. “Why not?”
“He might, er, help you cheat.”
“Barry would NEVER do that,” said Jeremy, surreptitiously hiding his exam paper, on which he’d written “Grrr, grroowl, roooaarr.”
This story was based on the prompt “once again” at TypeTrigger.
The bear came through the door of his shack tent with a squeal of abused latchwork and snapping lumber.
He started up in his open sleeping bag. In the next frozen second, his eyes darted between his knife, hanging sheathed above his bed and the intruding bear.
Time ran out.
A longtime LRR fan, Alex works for a gold exploration and development company in Saskatchewan. This was written while in a shack tent, after having watched a bear safety video too late a night.
Editor: I worked with LRR for more than two years until I left in 2010 to finish school.
Ronette hated bears.
One sat on her convertible.
The bear rustled the bag of chips on its snout.
She threw some chips into the back yard. The bear went after them.
Ronette started the convertible and sped away, but stopped as the bear cub wasn’t in a child safety seat.
Greg X. Graves likes monsters, ghost monsters, alien monsters, beast monsters, and monster monsters. Read more about them on his site, www.gregxgraves.com.
“Papa Panda! Papa Panda!”
There it went again.
It was incessant, unceasing, never-ending. (Synonyms were one of Papa Panda’s few pleasures.)
Papa Panda rolled over, half-opened one eye, and gestured impatiently at the annoying, agitating throng.
The tourists roared with glee.
Papa Panda found zoo life emotionally taxing.
He defended himself the only way he knew how: intimidation was his only real weapon.
“Boogidy boo!” he cried, arching his shoulders and spreading his arms to make himself look bigger.
The kitten mewled. It was blind, so it couldn’t see his Intimidation Pose anyways.
But the grizzly bear could.
They ran through the forest, fishing poles slapping against their back. They ran as fast as possible, each trying desperately to edge past the other. They looked around and, seeing a suitable tree, began to climb. They sat at the very top; laughing and smiling.
But the bears could climb.
J.M. Valentino likes to take time between being an international man of mystery and bagging the hot green alien chick to write. More of his work can be found at www.irregularreading.blogspot.com.