Urban Bears

The berries bloomed late–later than usual. Not that “usual” meant much anymore, of course. A lingering snow cover made ripe, juicy chokecherries and serviceberries harder and harder to find in the upper reaches of the Rocky Mountains. The foothills weren't much different. Ongoing drought had vanquished new growth. It was nearly summer and they were hungry.

The valley was another story. There, alleyways fermented with food; leftover hamburgers and steak, sticky marshmallows, and crusty bread spilled together to form a midnight buffet. And there were the fruit trees—glorious, fresh fruit trees.

 So they descended.