A Million Birds and a Grizzly Bear

A million birds and a grizzly bear. The birds are not magpies or doves, but something in-between. Flight unseen, nobody knows who they are. The grizzly bear? His name is Dave and he hasn't felt the same since he heard JJ Cale cantillate "Cocaine."

"I've never done wrong," he yells up at the birds, "along the way, in this life that I've led. I've never had fun, I've never been bad."

"You've eaten some people," the birds chirp back.

"I'm a grizzly bear," shouts Dave. "I'm programmed to attack. But I've never done the unexpected or veered off track."

"Ursus arctos horribilis," whisper the birds back to Dave. "We think you live up to your name."

"This normalness is driving me insane," grunts Dave to the birds. "I can't very well express myself to you with these words; I'm a bear. But I'm tired of all this truth with none of the dare. I want to down a fifth of scotch and finger a fish and watch pornographic movies online. I want to take something that isn't mine and alter the numbers on a speed limit sign. I want to get a tattoo of Jesus smoking crack on my back and hatch a virus that can infect a Mac. I need to go nutso ballutso just one time before I sign off and decay into the dirt. I'm inert, benign, like porridge that tastes just right."

"You're doing fine," hum the birds as they fly out of sight. 

"Shit," says Dave to nobody as he stumbles back to the stream. "Winter's coming and I need to eat me some salmon."