We love stories here. We also love words. Sometimes we make up our own words. Like Kinderwurst. It means child sausage in German. But when we looked it up it was a real thing. Germans are scary people.
The Stalking Sunbear is what happens when you let your love of words go too far. That and sausage-children.
The Stalking Sunbear
The rapping on the door at three in the morning wasn’t unexpected. Or if it was, only in the way of a sudden spring rain. There had been a rising, a cool certainty, but no indication when it would break.
She stood in the portico, arms crossed around herself in the dusky cool of the night air.
It was never really dark here in the city, just a twilight break between the sun’s crossings. “I thought I’d surprise you,” she said, head down, a dubious pitch.
She didn’t know I looked forward to these visits. She didn’t know the cabinet I paced to, the door that hid the things I kept for these visits, black spiced tea and pirouettes, kept fresh for her. She didn’t know the cups I pulled out, mismatched solitary survivors of three sets of dishware purchased since college. Continue reading “DAKKA PRESS presents: THE STALKING SUNBEAR”