Young Writers Society

Submitted by Marzipan

The banished elephant is looking rather lugubrious today. He sits outside my window and whimpers quietly, occasionally running his fingers through an oily mop of hair. I’d offer him a cigarette but I doubt he’d want it. He’s a righteous sort of chap. I watch from my typewriter, observing the exile carefully as I sip raspberry tea. He glances up dolefully, and catches my eye with a heart-wrenchingly forlorn wink. Then he returns his attention to the pugnacious terrier at his feet, which appears to be worrying at his boot. Its aggression, however, is unrequited. The gray man sits, unperturbed, wiping fat tears from his fat cheeks, ignoring the venomous teeth in his left calf. I cease once again my relentless tapping and stare at the words I’ve written. They make little sense to me. I take a mouthful of tea, lean back in my chair and examine the dust on my desk. Outside, the elephant wraps his massive arms around his quivering frame. His melancholy is catching. I don’t think I’ll have scones with Poppy today. I’d rather be alone.