It was a quiet afternoon. The falling sun reached through the windows and past the curtains of little Michael's room. Everything was still. So still.

click click click

A noise stirred underneath the bed.

click click click

The creature tapped and scraped at the floor surrounding Michael's bed. Above the bed, a rustle of sheets.

"Cut that out," came a grumpy voice.

"Well, why don't you come down here and make me?" The response was low and sounded like the cogs of a large machine that was struggling to turn.

"Harumph!" was the teddy bear's only reply.

click click click

One long, sharp claw reached up and over the side of the bed. Nothing else was revealed. Nothing else was ever revealed.

"I think you'd like it down here. It's warm. It's sunny," the voice taunted, "and I've prepared a picnic for you and the others."

"Picnic?" The bear brightened at the word. "I do love a good picnic."

"Yes," the voice gave a sinister laugh, "and we can play hopscotch."

"Ooh! I love hopsco- wait a minute!" The bear was shaken from his daze and a frown fell on his face. "You hate hopscotch!" he declared as he rolled over to the side of the bed and flipped himself over the edge. Two large, menacing eyes stared at him. The eyes laughed mockingly. It sounded like a deep rumble.

"You foolish little bear," it growled, "to think you're Michael's only defence." It laughed until it noticed the bear's furious frown.

Boo!

The bear shrieked and crawled back to the top of the bed. He was trembling, not only because of the shock, but also because the monster's laughing was making the bed shake. The bear flipped itself over the edge to look at the menacing eyes again.

"At least I'm his best friend. You're not even his worst fear!"

The rumbling stopped. The bed was still. For a moment, the room was quiet again. The bear, hanging over the side of the bed, looked for the eyes. He was filled with panic when they opened right in front of his face. Again, the bear gave a shriek, although this time, he covered his own eyes.

"What do you mean 'not even his worst fear'?" the voice questioned slowly. It was a sound so dark and so malicious that the bear began to whimper. The monster under the bed gave a viscious roar that sent the teddy bear back to the top of the bed covers. The bed juddered from the echo.

"M-Michael t-t-told me," stammered the bear, still a little taken aback from having been roared to the sky.

"Grrrr," the creature snarled, "t-t-told you what?" The bear didn't appreciate it's mockery. His fear was pushed aside to make room for his sensitivity.

"Well, if you must know," the bear continued, slightly wary, "he talks to me about other monsters. Yes, and they're mush worse than you." The bear sounded very matter-of-factual. The monster boomed with so much fury that it made the bed jump. The bear gave a yelp.

"Other monsters?"

"Yes. Didn't you know?!"

"Scarier monsters?!"

"Indeed," the bear crossed his arms and smiled in triumph, "much scarier." The monster thrashed and thundered underneath the bed.

"I'm the monster under the bed! There is no scarier monster!!"

"Apparently not," the bear said, and the monster quietened. Its heavy breathing shifted the dust surrounding the bed. Its breath sounded like the huff of a large animal.

"What are these monsters?" it growled curiously. The bear peered over the edge to try and see the monster. He couldn't.

"They're terrible things," the bear shook his head sadly, "awful. Worse than you." The monster gave a low rumble.

"That's not possible."

"And you know what else?" the bear dismissed the monster, "they can get him during the day." The breathing stopped and a curious grunt filled the silence.

"...the day?"

"Yes. Michael comes home and tells me all about them," the bear thought for a moment, "I believe he calls them... Boo-lies." The monster made a series of distressed sounds. It didn't like this. It didn't like this at all.

"I'll show them. I'll show them who's scary!"

"I don't know," the bear was concerned, "they sound really terrible." The creature lashed out beneath the bed, screams echoing somewhere below. The bear was tossed around the air from the jerking of the bed.

"NO! I'm the scariest monster! I won't let these...BOO-LIES do this to Michael!" A large pair of menacing eyes rose above the rim of the bed. The violent wailing and cries didn't stop. The bear squealed at the sight of the creature in the light. "I'll show them!! I'll show them!!"

The bedroom door opened.

A young boy dropped his bag on the floor, shut the door. It was a quiet afternoon. Everything was still. So still. He noticed his bear lying in the middle of his bed.

That's not where I left you.

He walked forward, to the edge of the bed. The dust stirred ever so slightly beneath him. He didn't notice. He just picked up the bear and stared at it. The soft, friendly bear. His best friend. His only friend. And the bear stared back. The bear, however, did not stare through wet eyes. It did stare through black ones, though. Michael gave a weak smile.

"We're kinda the same, Teddy." He hugged the bear and curled up on the bed. The bear wondered where Michael's bruises came from.

"Kinda the same."

Desert. Pint. 11:13 p.m.

right now in Barcelona

I'd be doing the same shit

or in Rome

or in Buckeye

the wait transcends

space and time and

ocean

but nobody does it

like they do it in

in the desert

sitting here outside of

it all

outside of the writing

the next book

the next hustle

all the next bullshit

sipping a Kilt Lifter

bonus lime wedges

from the belly shirt

and ass behind the bar

while outside the

moon burns white

above the mountains

drinking to forget

what I haven't done

or will never do

all the precious normality

I admire and despise

the constant condition

the constant weight

and lightness

the constant ghost

the hidden laughing bruise

the sick and tired prostration

before a night slowly wrapping

around us

a lotus dream before

the grip

sitting here at the bar

frontal lobe toggled

head change coming

the tapping in

mystery reopens

as the night moves

across the desert

winding and watching

the dirt and rock

and the grace of

moonlight

burning white

and shining

down

on all of this.