Bear, bear, bear.

I am a black bear.

I have a keeper. Every day he feeds me corn, feeds me beef, feeds me fish, feeds me greens. Sometimes he washes me, sometimes he beats me, sometimes he makes me learn tricks.

Most of it is pain. The happy part is when the humans give me things to eat.

I lived in a cage a long time, and then my keeper drove a big truck and took me around to perform. We passed through many places. I had to perform every day. Sometimes the takings were bad, and then I went hungry — got beaten, even.

That year, I met a she-bear.

We ran together beneath the setting sun. Her fur was so black, so bright. So exciting.

Later she died.

Starved. She was old, and she couldn't perform anymore, so the humans starved her to death.

I hate humans!

I wanted to bite my keeper to death, but he had a stick, and it hurt so much when he beat me, so I didn't dare move, and I kept performing. I saw the humans crowded around me — they threw food at me, waved it in my face, wouldn't let me eat it. I wanted to kill them. But for the food, I didn't dare kill humans.

That day, I was riding along with my keeper in the cage on the big truck, and I saw a great ball of fire come crashing down from the sky, and then I don't remember anything.

When I woke up, I found a storm shot through with rocks was battering the truck.

I wanted to run, but the truck was strange, and I wanted to bring it with me — there was food inside, so much food. The keeper was gone, the humans were gone, and I could eat all the food I loved to my heart's content.

I was so hungry. I hadn't eaten in a week.

Outside, the storm and the rocks were still blowing.

I didn't dare go out — the rocks hurt so much when they hit me. Day…