Where's Brown bear?

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Greetings to my lovely readers. I am working on creating this fantastic story into a comic and so far, you are the first to see how it is progressing... Partway through this story you will see my first ever comic thumbnails, these are the plotting tools of the trade and can save a tremendous amount of time in the actual creation phase. They are certainly not complete, they are simply thumbnails, guiding you (and myself) into the journey of creation. I hope you enjoy these and will keep tabs on how I am progressing. Happy New year!

"Brown Bear, Brown Bear.  Where are you?"  I remember her voice, it was bouncing around inside my head.  I could just hear my Gemma calling me from up the path and over the fence – where I couldn't get to her now.  That was the last time I remembered hearing her sweet voice anyway.  She would be so upset because she could not find me.  I was her favourite teddy you know.  I wish I still was, but I don't think anyone could love me now.  I'm such a foolish Brown Bear.

Yesterday I decided that I wanted to explore the world beyond the white picket gate by myself.  I knew it was a naughty thing to do and now I miss Gemma's sweet cuddles.  She always told me I was her soft-cuddly bear, but I wanted to see what I could see.  Sure she would have taken me out anyway, but being a silly, curious bear I just couldn't resist.  How stupid I am feeling, so ashamed at what I've done.  Just look at me, a stupid, dirty and un-lovable bear.  I can't even see properly now.  Everything is black and white, and lopsided, I feel so cold.  What was I thinking?

I trotted down the brown cobblestone path, past the bright coloured garden filled with tall red tulips, yellow daffodils, and pink sweet-smelling freesias

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I trotted down the brown cobblestone path, past the bright coloured garden filled with tall red tulips, yellow daffodils, and pink sweet-smelling freesias.  Oh, and the big blue irises with their paintbrush stroke of yellow on the petals.  I loved the way they swayed in the morning breeze.  I felt a tickle of the cool breeze and could smell the sweetness floating past my nose.  When I got to the tall white picket gate at the end of the path – I saw the cheeky green tui pushing out his white-puffed up collar to sing.  He sat in the branches of the huge Pohutukawa tree above my head, with its bright and red-fluffy bottlebrushes.

His green feathers caught the sunlight and flashed white and gold as the tree heaved and swayed its colourful arms.  This was his favourite song he sung each morning.  I reckon he was singing it for me, and I loved it: now I hate it.

The tui sits and mocks me, his song is a coarse "Caw, caw!"  I'm sure there's a chuckle in it too, a cruel Jap!  "Brown bear, stupid bear!  Caw, caw!"

The gate was tall, but I didn't need to climb it.  Gemma collected the mail earlier that morning.  She must have forgotten to close it behind her.  She usually remembered, she's a very responsible girl and that was one of her jobs.  Her mum would send her out each morning.

"Don't forget to come right back, and close the gate behind you.  Thank you Gemma."  Oh dear, if only Gemma remembered to check the gate was closed that morning.  I would be safe, and not in the state I am now.  I slipped out through the picket gate and onto the grey footpath that ran forever along the busy street.

  I slipped out through the picket gate and onto the grey footpath that ran forever along the busy street

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