Bear Surviving
Bear Surviving by Nic Hopkins He is a martyr of motorway traffic. He was loved once. Wasn’t he? If he ever had a name, it eludes him; memories are clumped tumbleweed in his otherwise linty cotton wool mind. Thick black cable ties pin him, arms outstretched, to the lorry’s radiator grill. He trembles to the rhythm of the engine, never able to relax. Deep potholes jerk his floppy legs in erratic directions and the weight of his body twists his weakening shoulder seams. Is this the bump to pop his stitching? His eyes are grit cataracts but he remembers having bright orange fur. He suspects he’s now the grimy khaki of hood ornament old timers he used to pity. His sight faded with his memories which scared him at first but it doesn’t bother him anymore. They always take the same routes, deserted roads in the middle of the night. Lit by lone headlights, all roads look the same, endless tarmac floored tunnels walled with silhouetted trees. The driver pulls into a layby and turns off th...