The Bear and the Monkey
Aug 2025
Chapter One:
A small black bear with charcoal-tinted glasses sits hunched watching the world go by.
Bored and frustrated by life. The world is tinged in grey.
A small, wild monkey wearing cool red glasses comes bounding into sight.
He laughs and spins, catches a low hanging branch, and somersaults, landing next to the jaded bear.
Grinning from ear to ear, the monkey falls back and glances up at the trees, letting out a sigh of awe.
'Ooooh!' he exclaims. The bear looks up to find nothing.
The wind moving the branches and leaves.
She looks back at the monkey and shrugs.
Two butterflies come tumbling past. Swirling and spiralling in their delicate mating dance.
The monkey points and gushing in admiration. The bear shrugs again.
The black and white butterflies are hardly interesting.
A snake comes sliding past and it stops to say ‘Hi’. Its tail rattling, the monkey waves, and chuckles.
He points and nudges the bear with his elbow.
The dark bear frowns and thumps the monkey's shoulder with the back of her hand, sending him flying.
The Monkey picks himself up and sits back down next to the bear, offering his red glasses.
The bear reluctantly removes hers and replaces the specs.
Looking around, finding nothing has changed.
She shrugs and lets out a small growl.
The Cheeki Monkey snatches the glasses back and rubs them on the bears heart.
At the same time, he whispers into the bears long ear.
Asking her to think about love. The glasses begin to glow ✨️
Offering them again to the perplexed bear.
She returns them to her nose, to her astonishment everything has changed.
The snakes tail is radiating colours. Her tongue dripping with love.
The butterflies come flitting past again, a stream of sparkles trailing behind.
Little bubbles of love float between them. Their wings vivid in dazzling colours, so pleasing to the eye.
The little black bear gasps in amazement at the sudden explosion of richness.
So blown away she falls backwards to look up and see music flowing as a breeze through the vibrating branches and leaves, some of the notes dripping in love.
The shimmering leaves are singing in delight, reflecting the caress of love.
The bear lets out a soft groan of delight. Ahhhhuuuooooow!
Lifting up the glasses up and lowering them back down, the bear does not understand how the magic works.
She sits up and, with disappointment, returns them to the Monkey.
The clever Monkey pauses and grins.
He takes the bears charcoal glasses and performs the same technique.
Placing them gently back on her wide, long nose.
They are rose coloured now, not as bright as the Monkeys but pleasing all the same.
He gives her a long, warm hug, and bounds away laughing.
Like the lunatic he is, drunk on all the love, hiding in plain sight.
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The appearance of things changes according to the emotions; And thus we see magic and beauty in them, while the magic and beauty are really in ourselves. – Kahlil Gibran
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Chapter Two:
The young bear goes home all excited to show her mother the magical trick.
She takes her glasses and performs the same method. She is astonished and delighted at the new colours.
Its not a dramatic change but a pleasant shift non the less.
She goes to her father, waving her hands around and pointing to his glasses.
Taking them, she rubs them on his chest and whispers in his ear. His reaction ambivalent.
The huge bear frowns and grunts. When they are placed back on his nose he sees only a slight difference.
Everything is a slightly pink colour. The young bear is confused and disappointed.
The old bear turns to walk off rubbing his glasses on his arse cheek. The young bear is mortified, why would you do that?
The father tries the glasses again, shaking his head he removes them and rubs them right into the crack of his enormous arse.
Returning them to his nose he let out a series of satisfied grunts.
The young bear goes to her mother for an explanation.
She points to the old bear and to her heart, then showing her paws together to signify that his is small.
The young bears’ mouth falls open.
Muma bear picks up a medium stone and holds it against her chest.
A small tear falls from her eye.
She drops the stone and rubs the young bears chest, humming.
She hugs her then takes off her daughters glasses to look through them. Astounded to find just how bright everything is.
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Chapter Three:
The wild Monkey is invited to dinner, a curious feast of oats and milk, how strange.
Muma bear is proud of her meal and gracious hosting, happy to recieve compliments from the charming and kind Monkey.
She asks him to explain where he learned about the glasses and how it works.
A big smile formed across the Monkey's face, he reaches behind his ear and retrieves a tiny, whisper thin key.
Parting the hairs on his chest with one hand he insets the slender key into a hole not larger than a hair.
A door opens up a bit smaller than a fist. Out floods a golden light, soft and radiant.
Three pairs of glasses each with a different shade witness the light in their own way.
The bears drew back, Muma and daughters mouths falling open without realising.
A sight so resplendent they’re left in awe.
Monkey puts a hand up to cup an ear, so they know to listen.
Initially they hear nothing, they hush, holding still, only the softest breeze and the call of a bird.
Muma and daughter strain, leaning in to pick up the subtlest of melodies.
The faintest of chimes floating along. They bask for a while in the velvet glow.
The barely audible bells swamped by the slightest disturbance. Papa bear hears nothing.
Finally the door closes to a stunned audience. The Muma bear is quick, she holds out her hand flat to borrow the key.
The Monkeys’ left eyebrow lifts, he hesitates then places the key in her trembling palm.
She sweeps aside some hair and finds the tiny hole, inserting the key but the lock won’t open.
She jiggles and rattles the key without success.
Frustrated she looks up at the Monkey, his face apologetic as he already knew the outcome before she started.
He extends his palm for the reluctant return. Holding it up to explain each one is unique.
The small bear had watched the whole show intrigued.
Holding up he hands palms up to ask how and where to find such a treasure?
Lifting his hands to his eyes the Monkey makes pretend binoculars then points to each bear.
They must search for their own.
Papa bear grunted his disapproval.
He wont be scratching around in the forest or scouring fields for some ridiculous small key just to make things seem brighter.
He frowns at the small ape full of scepticism.
Monkey is surprised by the reaction, as if he has something to gain by showing all of this.
The young bear springs to her feet and dives into a shrub franticly searching.
Muma bear torn between the two polar approaches.
Bringing both hands to his head the Monkey closes his eyes and let out a sigh.
No, no, stop. He waves his hands.
Producing the key again he explains.
Everything is inside, the source of all they seek, the fountain which was once open and flowing.
The Muma and daughter bear nod is acknowledgement.
They understand and will begin their search inside.
Papa bear grunts with disdain, he wont be going on some Easter Egg hunt for a key he's not convinced isn’t a trick.
Monkey stands and removes his glasses, glistening love pours from his eyes.
A sweetness the old bear has not seen since his own daughter was a cub only weeks old. He gasps.
Monkey steps forward and hugs the startled old bear, caught between his reluctance to accept all of this and a glimpse of something lost.
The long warm hug melts away the calcification from the huge bears mind and heart.
Long lost memories of love and its withdrawal come sweeping through him.
Tears form, streaming down his speckled black and grey hairy cheeks.
He begins to sob as years of holding on and resistance to the only power against them; surrender comes in in long sobbing waves.
Monkey holds they huge bear as he convulses and shakes.
The spell of cynicism broken temporarily.
The cracks in the armour built over a lifetime lets slithers of light back in.
The warm rays strike a tiny ember in the pile of ashes that once contained a roaring fire.
Will the weary old bear be able to maintain the spark, to hold the fragile glow?
Only time will tell.
Each must tend their own fire.
It can be rekindled but remains glowing only from within.
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