Written on 1/23/2011
Bernie removed his ill-fitting headphones and disconnected himself from the auto-dial computer. He lumbered out of his cubicle, relieved to be free from another day of customer service. He had once again been chastised by his supervisor for growling at the customers when they became rude.
Outside, the cool evening air bit sweetly into his nose; not as fresh as he was used to but still a pleasure. His nose ran wet, but he didn’t care. His thick coat kept him warm and he was used to people staring at him, so despite his strangeness he felt snug. He chose to walk home rather than ride the bus and suffer the ordeal it would mean: barely squeezing through the doors; struggling to produce change; dirty looks as his wide ass took up two seats; people murmuring about his musky smell.
As he wandered along the sidewalk, he picked up endless smells; most not worth sniffing. But one tugged at him like nothing else. He loped into an alley, past back doors and dumpsters, all the while the scent growing stronger. His mouth watered and he began to feel a little crazy from the anticipation. Barking and growling Bernie tore open a garbage can, lid flying, sides torn apart as he dug for the source of his blood lust, until finally he reached it. The paper bag was stained deep purple, and damp with juice. Bernie licked the bag, and his senses tingled with joy: over-ripe huckleberries, just on the verge of fermenting. He swallowed the lot in one turn, almost immediately regretting not savoring the berries.
The rush quickly faded, and Bernie continued home. Struggling with his keys, he fumbled his way into his building and into his apartment. Bare walls, no furniture, no food in the fridge, not even a mattress to sleep on. This is how he liked it. He liked to snuggle into the bathtub, tuck his nose under his arm and dream of the forest before the developers cut it down for condos, and he became homeless. A bear lost in the city.