Don’t Feed The Bears!

Daily Prompt: Neighbors

( duck duck grey duck image – if you wish )

Imagine a simplistic brick 2 story built in the late sixties to be an investment property.  Simple efficient apartment living with a pretty courtyard.  Balconies with wide spaciousness for that time. It would be late postwar dreaming – but the style is too late to be of that era.  There too much box slick for a fourties building.  This one is adorned in clothes fourties but is far too young – just a love child.


Fast forward to this place in its middle age where the wide spacious balcony is a sad yard to modern space utilization.. Fast  forward to a rear entrance that has no window to show who came or went.  Fast forward not to just cigarette butts but crack vials .  Fast forward to the rent is the same yet the dreams went down the drain.  Fast forward to pretending to be in charge and or care for 50 a month off.  Fast forward to that rear stairwell second level being the drug czars place… he ain’t dumb.  You don’t have to ask why advantage is what it is…  Milk boxes are oiled not to take pride in oneself but to make drops quiet and unseen.  You still care what the. Neighbors think.  It won’t take you long to spot who likes what and where the money went.  Every chat is to use your bathroom to spot your stash – not just to get up a borrowed cup of sugar.  Fast forward to drinks overlooking the sunset off the mountains.  Fast forward to joyous alters bar be cue.  Fast forward to just a whiff of excitement left? Oh no, there’s plenty of sad games yet.


The brickets … I know! BBQ effing sin! Use hardwood and lighter fluid is only the onions! … begin to white as the wetted mesquite chip clatters in.  The manhole cover grill back in place is kinda like covering the danger zone.   There’s that moment of pride before you’re aware this isn’t the king’s work.  The raw chicken is on its plate.  The snap of bulk pack styro pack echoes in the ears Snap! P! p.  Shuffle shuffle as it’s garbage.  The clatter and clink of bowls, brush and tiger sauce being assembled. And now the one hand dancing. Begins again.  The momentary eye-gesture frown as you try to set it all safely down… cuhlamp. The lid rattles off as a puff cloud Chech and Chong would brag about wafts toward Garcia gone skyward.  Two hours it takes.  Too many rum and cokes. You just can imagine the smile of painting the town red with dinner beginning not done and you in your.bed.


Oo, the smoke signals say the gossip is stale.  The excitement roamed elsewhere.  The river of traffic still hustles hush! loudly by.  The sun was shot dead.  Light bleeds from the sky.  The plate is piled high. But oddly no one cares .  My magic poof vanished like the fake smile at the 3 year old happy birthday!  Like I bleeping care , kid!  I eat alone.  I walk my plate wrapped to my neighbor hopeful.  Knock knock blah blah clatter to the counter quickly quietly trashed into the a fridge.


The sun rises. The new “hi!” Is “can I bum 10 bucks!”  “Dinner then!” “Sure!”  Chicken greens and Meyer! Lemon.  Oo lala you think Jesus wept for my joy!  First bite in was mesquite.  Have you figured out the ploy?  As I ate my ten lost to my leftovers resold me, I laughed.  Darkly laughed as if madness was coming.  I never did get her to eat.  Duh, you know what eventually happens if you don’t.  Nor did I notch up some score there. I only learned the hard way…

Don’t  feed the bears.

(Assomeone gives the game away this isn’t fiction… Marlu apartment circa my time there as I recognize a vehicle 😉 – Denver )


By Starman Jones

Everything and Nothing interests me. I cook read, write and even have to clean. I SHOULD NOTE: I'm 40 something.

7 replies on “Don’t Feed The Bears!”

So many different emotions coming through your words/experiences related to neighbors.
I like when neighbors are kind and fun.
I ate bear stew one time. Wanna’ know what I thought about it?!
HUGS and Happy Whee-kend!!! 🙂

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