By Georgia Bellas
The wolf wears bubble gum pink rainboots. The wolf drinks medicinal whiskey. Every night. The wolf roars like a bear and sprinkles glitter in her fur. The wolf rides the train back and forth with no destination, sometimes while wearing a tiara. The wolf has no friends. The wolf reads about alien abductions in the tabloids, reads about missing kids on milk cartons, eats hot muesli for breakfast. The wolf strums her autoharp and sings in a quiet growl of a voice. The wolf staples posters to telephone poles seeking bandmates but no one calls.
The wolf trembles with lust for the forest and one gingko tree in particular. The wolf wants to rescue someone, be a hero. The wolf carries her neighbor’s trash can back to the curb each time the wind knocks it into the street.
The wolf believes in self-care and applies a deep pore exfoliating mud mask every Saturday morning. The wolf donates to GoFundMe campaigns for birds rebuilding their nests after natural disasters, such as a gutter cleaning.
The wolf writes terrible poetry. The wolf writes Nancy Drew fan fiction but tears the words up before they reach the page. The wolf makes a bonfire of her poems once a month. The wolf believes hibernation should be a choice for all creatures.
The wolf is not a mother.
The wolf wants to share her heart-music with the world even when no one listens. The wolf knows you can die of a broken heart. The wolf plays hopscotch but only when no one is watching.
The wolf gets drunk on loneliness.
The wolf’s disappearance is a small mention in the back of the community newspaper. There is no photograph to accompany it.
Georgia Bellas is a writer, artist, and filmmaker whose current obsession is handmade paper. She’s also one-half of the art band Sugar Whiskey (https://sugarwhiskey.com/). You can follow her teddy bear, host of the award-winning weekly Internet radio show “Mr. Bear’s Violet Hour Saloon,” on Twitter @MrBearStumpy.
MoonPark Review 