Goodnight Twitter: The Hungry Sky

A bedtime story for sleepy Twitter friends

The Hungry Sky

In the deep dark wilderness, where the secret creatures of the forest hide, there stood a strong stone cave where a small sleuth of black bears lived.

Longclaw, the leader, was a fierce hunter and an excellent tree climber. He often padded down to the crystal lake and pierced fish with razor sharp claws, bringing the biggest back to the cave.

Lightfoot was his chosen mate, a smaller bear of sinewy frame and a passion for climbing trees. She could extract honey from the most out of reach hive, and loved to spend long, lazy afternoons licking the sticky sweet treat from her paws.

This particular evening, a thunderstorm was brewing. Rain pitter-pattered on the roof of their cave, pooling in the entrance. The moon shone brightly in puddles of silvery-shine.

Peace echoed in the shadowy stillness.

Little Heart curled in closer to Lightfoot, his small, warm frame melding to hers.

The sky let out a hungry growl. His ears flattened back as he whimpered.

“Don’t worry little one” Lightfoot soothed, “that’s just thunder.”

The baby bear asked, “is thunder the hungry stomach of the sky, growling?”

Lightfoot thought about that for a moment. The earth was hungry for rain, it was true. There had been many days since a downpour like this. Could the sky also be hungry for a blood-letting? To open its wounds and let the tears fall until they quenched an infinite desire to be unfilled, and open?

The rain got heavier. The pitter-patter sounds sped up, pit-pat, pit-pat. The growls became more insistent.

Lightfoot heard in them the cry of her ancestors.

She reached back to a moment many moons ago, when they were baby bears, curled in caves, against their mothers. She imagined the peaceful form of her great, great, great grandmother, resting in this cave just like this, wondering where her mate was, and how long she’d be here waiting.

It had been three days since Longclaw left in search of venison. Outside the night was dark and full of promise. The air would be fresh on Longclaw’s back, his claws digging joyfully into the soft, yielding grass as he flew against the wind towards deer valley.

How she longed for adventure. The scent of trees. The sensation of being one with the wilderness. When would Longclaw return?

The Hungry Sky is a peaceful, relaxing story to help soothe anxiety and help you drift off to sleep. It is the first in a series of bedtime stories I am publishing to Twitter under a dedicated account, verysleepystory.

Please give me a follow over there — my main account is @ dyspraxiccharly and share the tweet if you can, so that more people with anxiety can hear it and hopefully drift off to a relaxing slumber.