Goodbye Boris

This week's flash fiction is a picture of a bear amongst some tall wildflowers. Here is my story.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“Run!” yelled Boris as he thundered towards the river, his thick, black fur shaking, his muscles rippling.

Meesha yelled after her big brother, “Wait Boris, Mama said to hide when they come to the mountain.”

Boris stopped and turned, “That didn’t do mama any good, did it? They tracked her down and took her right out of the cave!”

With a huge huff and thump of his thick paws on the grass, Boris took off again.

Meesha huffed too. Boris was going to get himself in trouble. She followed him.

Boris waited for Meesha at the river. The water raged with the tears of the winter thaw.

“Boris, this is not a good idea. It’s too fast.”

“We’ll be safe on the other side, the people can’t cross it. Let’s go!” Boris jumped into the river. White arms of bubbly water enveloped him. Four hundred pounds of bear bobbed like a fishing float.

“Boris!” Meesha yelled as she watched him struggle to cross the wide river.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A tree splintered behind Meesha.

Fear filled her as she ran the bank of the river. She tried to keep up with Boris but couldn’t bring herself to jump in after him.

The river turned. Meesha had to make a decision. She turned towards the meadow and kept running. Deep within the tall wildflowers, grasping for breath, she stopped. She could barely make out the river.

Frozen, afraid to move, Meesha cried, “Goodbye Boris.”