Picking huckleberries, with no sense of time. Sunset. Dark shape breaks into three.
Your eyes focus on a bear and two cubs. They sniff the air.
Cubs climb a tree. Mama sits underneath.
Moving forward, you say, “It’s okay,” more for your benefit than hers. You are the trespasser here.
Roni Slye spends much of her time in the woods, trying to have as little interaction with wildlife as possible. You can find her on Twitter.
Splinters of wood from my door lay scattered on the floor. The intruder, eyes wild, face thin, pointed towards the window. “Trying to kill me. Ninjas on the roof.”
I dialed 911.
Cuffs on wrists; police took him away.
A metallic flash. A small throwing star embedded in the doorframe.
Roni Slye travels the land in search of hot springs, cool forests, and creative sparks. Her work has been published at The Molotov Cocktail and Nailed Magazine.