I have a pet elephant. This is our story.
Some day she will turn on me. My pet elephant, overcome by an urge to roam. To seek water, to walk paths worn by her grandmother, her aunts, and ancient sisters long ago.
There is no cage I keep her in. No comfort I can provide. Her long eyelashes close like curtains over a darkened stage. Her nearly silent steps are uncomfortable on my laminate. Languid ears flapping, cools the blood coursing just beneath the surface.
Our respect is mutual, but our admiration is not. I am the keeper of one who cannot bare to be kept. She swings her trunk and breaks free.