Goldilocks and the Three Point Five Bears
Kenton K. Yee

When your father is a bear and you are the only half-bear in town, you can’t do better than to have Goldilocks for a mother. You mention you like honey and she makes you honey porridge every morning. When you take up ballet, she drags a dozen relatives to every performance. You lose three hundred pounds and win a prestigious scholarship to train with the San Francisco Ballet. But leaving home doesn’t feel right. What feels right is Sunday brunch with Grandpa and Grandma Bear. What feels right is your mother’s honey porridge. Your father doesn’t say it, but you know he wants nothing more than for you to join his honey business. So you take accounting courses in community college, cashier part time at The Lair, and sleep in your old room. Grandpa and Grandma Bear tear up when they tell you for the thousandth time how they came home one summer afternoon and found your mother in your father’s bed, which is your bed now. And you wouldn’t change a thing.



Kenton K. Yee’s stories appear in The Los Angeles Review, PANK, Word Riot, Hobart, elimae, and Monkeybicycle, among others. A theoretical physicist working in finance in San Francisco, he is writing a novel exploring the nature of artificial sentience.