They say that elephants remember things for a long time. I wonder if, like humans, they also experience memory loss?
The image parade always begins at night, after I turn out the light. Bits of color begin jumping up and down like unruly children refusing to stay in line at school. They flow past my closed eyes, one after another, never stopping.
Tonight it’s the elephants slowly moving towards me out of an orange sunrise. Where does this thought come from? They’re most likely a metaphor, but I can’t grab the images long enough to keep them still.
I have always loved elephants. There’s something magical and soothing about them. Even when they roar.
Certain nights during the parade, a bad memory marches past, jarring the peaceful flowing rhythm of silent figures. I’m becoming immune to those intrusions now, so I mentally turn away.
This one image, orange and red elephants watching me quietly, is a good one. Maybe I’ll put it in my pocket and carry it around today.