The king of the mountain

Bob always had to be the first to get to the top. So he disappeared, running up through the wooden scale. Soon we heard him yell in horror and saw him coming down faster than when he climbed the mountain.

-A bear! There is an enormous bear at the top!

Dad told us to wait and don’t make a sound and went to investigate.

Suddenly we heard a roar. We were scared and thought dad was fighting with the dangerous beast with his bare hands.

I was trembling and starting to cry when I heard a happy and loud laugh.

Dad came back smiling and talking with a man wearing a long heavy furry coat who mostly listened to him.

Hey, kids, this is your uncle Joe, the king of the mountain. Who wants to see his cabin?

-Me! Me! Me!

I’ll never forget that day at the top of the mountain with my dad, my brothers and sister, and uncle Joe enjoying nature.

Flash Fiction for the purposeful practitioner

The featured Image is by Anton Atanasov from Unsplash

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