Once upon a time…
The three bears sit quietly at the table sharing their picnic as they have done many times over previous months. Happily enjoying the attention from those who passed by and those who might even stop, smile or occasionally snap a picture. Enjoying the gentle voices of those looking at them and whilst they didn’t fully understand what, ‘Ahhh aren’t they cute’ meant, they were comfortable with the sounds they heard. It soothed them as they ate.
Then came the talk.
Just whispers at first. They thought it might have been a stitch-up? Feint murmurings about a new group who were coming.
Making their way from the darkest corners of the knitting basket.
Moving relentlessly, with the commitment of professional athletes towards their goal.
Towards their final objective….their finish line.
Towards the pier!
As they advanced they were waving banners and flags, some with different coloured rings on them.
Shouting strange words never heard in these parts before. Words like…’London‘ and ‘twenty twelve‘.
Suddenly, out of the darkness, they had appeared.
“Darn it”, said the three bears!
In large numbers and in one busy night they had claimed their prize.
They had pushed beyond the picnic area and made it to the pier and now, sitting back enjoying their spoils and the attention lavished on them by those flocking to see them, they can say with pride that the Olympians had arrived.
But the three bears remain. More watchful now than before. As they sit at their lonely table on the top of the hill in the picnic area and have a good yarn they long for the day when people stop, smile and murmur those familiar phrases once again because they don’t want to be forgotten forever.