The Voice

The unmistakable sound of a bear crashing through undergrowth. “You are a Shawnee brave,” a voice says out of my dark space. “No I'm not,” I reply panicking “I am old and fat!” “Take up your tomahawk be a man, die well.” The voice urges. I need to pee, it is half-past three in the morning briefly I know this - but I also know how to run. I run, throwing my weapons away as the bear charges. “I am embarrassed and ashamed for you.” “Fork off.” I gasp, dodging between trees, then blunder into the bathroom, a full bladder still yelling at me.