No Pears for Bear
Peter, an extraordinary kind of bear, woke up one sunny morning with a rumbly, grumbly tummy. He decided it was the perfect day to bake a pie. But not just any pie—his favourite, a pear pie! Peter loved pears more than anything else in the world. He loved their sweet, juicy taste, their golden-green colour, and even their gentle perfume.
With a big grin, Peter shuffled into his kitchen to gather what he needed.
He opened the cupboard—no pears.
He checked the pantry—not a single pear.
Then, he peered out at the pear tree in his garden. Its branches were bare, with not a pear in sight.
Peter sighed. “I can’t make a pear pie without pears,” he muttered, his tummy giving an impatient growl. He really, *REALLY* wanted pears.
Determined, Peter grabbed his hat, hopped onto his bicycle, and went off to Mrs Appletree’s shop. As he pedalled, he imagined the delicious smell of his pear pie fresh out of the oven. “I’ll make the best pie ever,” he whispered to himself, pedalling faster.
When he arrived, his eyes grew wide with delight. There were pears *everywhere*! Mountains and mountains of pears piled high, all glistening and golden in the shop’s soft light.
Peter took a deep breath. The sweet scent of pears filled the air, and he closed his eyes to savour it fully. “This is paradise,” he thought, his nose twitching with happiness.
He imagined himself diving headfirst into the pears, feeling their soft, cool skin against his fur. He pictured climbing to the top of a pear mountain, his claws sinking into the juicy fruit as he shouted, “I’m the king of the pears!” Then, with a loud *whoosh*, he could almost hear himself rolling down the other side, laughing all the way.
Peter’s fun didn’t stop there. In his mind, he built pear castles, stacking them into wobbly towers that glowed like golden treasure. He imagined flopping onto his back, making pear angels, the soft fruit squishing under his paws. He even pictured himself hopping across the pears like stepping stones, giggling as they wobbled beneath him.
Time seemed to stop as Peter dreamed of pear rivers flowing sweetly, pear boats bobbing along, and even a pear rainbow arching across the sky. “I could stay here forever,” he thought with a happy sigh.
But his daydream was interrupted by a gentle tap on his shoulder. “Excuse me, Peter,” said Mrs Appletree with a kind smile, “but it’s closing time.”
Peter blinked, realising he had been lost in his imagination. “Oh dear,” he mumbled, stretching and rubbing his eyes. “I must’ve lost track of time.” He waved a quick apology and said goodbye to the shopkeeper and went back home with a full heart, a big smile, and a head full of pear adventures.
When he got home, the first thing he did was tie on his apron and wash his paws. “Time to make my pear pie!” he said happily. He reached for the basket where he usually put his groceries, but when he looked inside, his smile faded.
“Oh no,” Peter groaned, slumping into a chair. “I forgot to buy pears!” He stared at the empty basket and shook his head. “How could I have been so silly?”
He sat down at the kitchen table, his tummy grumbling louder than ever. He had been so distracted that he hadn’t taken any home.
No pears.
No pie.
No dinner for Peter.
With a sigh, Peter made himself a cup of tea and placed the remaining pieces of yesterday’s honeycomb on a small plate. The honey was sticky and sweet, but it wasn’t the same as his beloved pears.
Curling up in his chair, Peter closed his eyes and let his mind drift. That night, he dreamed of pear pies baking in the oven, pear adventures in faraway lands, and a big basket of pears he *wouldn’t* forget next time.
-The End-
