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Student @ Nnamdi Azikiwe University,Awka.
MR TORTOISE GETS DEPRESSED PART TWO- Meeting the elephant
<p>The elephant finds him on the fifth day.</p><p>She is old, older than him in some ways, younger in others. She does not chatter. She does not circle. She simply stands beside him, her great gray body a mountain of patience, her breathing a slow and steady rhythm that matches something in his chest he had forgotten was there.</p><p><br/></p><p>You are still here, she says. </p><p><br/></p><p>I am still here.</p><p><br/></p><p>The others say you are strange. They say you have changed.</p><p><br/></p><p>I have not changed, he says. I have simply stopped pretending I am not heavy.</p><p><br/></p><p>The elephant is quiet for a long time. A very long time. </p><p><br/></p><p>I know heavy, she says finally. I carry it too. Every day. The memory of every dry season. The bones of every one I have lost. The weight of simply being this large in a world that keeps getting smaller.</p><p><br/></p><p>Mr. Tortoise looks at her. Really looks. For the first time in weeks, something shifts inside him. </p><p><br/></p><p>Does it get lighter? he asks.</p><p><br/></p><p>No, she says. But you get stronger. Or you don't. And either way, you keep going. Because stopping is not actually an option. Not for us. Not for the ones who carry.</p><p><br/></p><p>She reaches out, slowly, with infinite care, and touches her trunk to the edge of his shell.</p><p><span style="background-color: transparent;">Then she walks away. Not fast. Not slow. Just... steadily. The way heavy things move when they have decided to keep moving.</span></p><p><br/></p><p><span style="background-color: transparent;">Mr. Tortoise watches her go.</span></p><p>The sun sets. The stars appear. The squirrel sleeps in her nest, the hare dreams of running, the bird sings in her sleep to eggs not yet born.</p><p>Mr. Tortoise is still here.</p><p>Still heavy.</p><p>Still not moving.</p><p>But somewhere, deep in the haunted house of himself, a single window has opened.</p><p>He does not go through it. Not yet. He is not sure he remembers how.</p><p>But he sees the light.</p><p>And for a creature who has spent five days in darkness, seeing the light is not nothing.</p><p>It is not everything.</p><p>But it is not nothing.</p><p><br/></p><p>Must be nice, he thinks one last time, as sleep finally comes.</p><p>But this time, he is not thinking of the others.</p><p>He is thinking of the elephant.</p><p>Of her trunk on his shell.</p><p>Of the weight she carries, and carries, and carries.</p><p>And he thinks: Must be nice. To be seen.</p><p>He sleeps.</p><p>Tomorrow, he will still be h<span style="background-color: transparent;">eavy.</span></p><p>But tonight, he is a little less alone.</p>
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