Browbeat by a parade of elephants on His first attempt, intimidation drove Him away. Humiliated in front of his own cubs, He waits for two hours - maybe three.
The noon day heat calls for rejoicing in the jungle waters, and so the elephants skin glistens from the bath. As the matriarch departs and the rest likewise, You notice an aberration in the setting; in the distant, you overlook its vague yet powerful body, for what draws your attention is the amber dust in the eyes of the predator, Him. Raging with fury and driven on mad hunger, He positions his hind legs and intensity in His eyes is boiling. He goes in for the kill.
Fear Him for when he strikes, the amber dust in His eyes will be your last sight.
Young and callous, her dream was like an other eleven year old girl; to strut on the runway, dolled up and a caked face, with legs as thin as her chances. Forty years later, she's kneading dough wearing a red checkered hand-me-down apron and as the flour rose in billowing clouds, her wrinkles are concealed and she once again dreams of that preteen fantasy.