"Keep your distance!"
I was hollering at a bear. He seemed to pause for a moment, cock his head as if trying to understand me, then he continued on a direct path toward me. I was on my porch, my sacred place, my safe space. No one came onto my porch without a written invitation from me.
"You missed the party Bear. It was yesterday. You didn't RSVP, so I didn't expect you, but here you are, a day late. And skunk-smelling no less. You are not to come up on this porch. Keep your distance I say!"
By this time Bear was a few feet from my bottom step. Looking directly into my eyes, he took another step.
"Halt! I warn you! You do not have permission to come onto my porch!"
Bear lifted his hulk onto the bottom step. I lifted my bow and arrow, and took aim. I had never killed a thing before, but had spent hours on end shooting at an assortment of targets I had positioned over by the bee hives that this bear had helped himself to on more than one occasion. I was getting pissed. Now he was on the porch.
A small flock of birds began to fly around Bear's head, and another flock around mine. I began to sing "Love Me Tender," I couldn't help it! When the mood strikes, strike back! I let an arrow loose, and caught the fellow on his left ear.
He took to the hills and I never saw him again.
So you see, singing is the answer to, well, everything.
This is my entry to 
