Describing an elephant

I will tell you about the end which was really your beginning. In the end, we spoke all the time about starting again. Hindsight is easy, easier still is it to blame your failings on others. There was plenty of that too in the end.

We rose like disturbed bees in fury and indignation. Feeling that we had been cheated, angry that we should have done better, we revolted. Big oil was brought down deeper than their fracking hoses. In weeks was done what we could not do in three quarters of a century.

As we choked on the gas and hungered in the strikes, it was you that gave us strength, we kept you in heart and mind. Remember this at the very least.

You will hate us, you must hate us. The hives were kicked too late. I spent a lifetime gathering the courage to give up burgers. We were sorry in the end, all of us. Our shame united us as love or peace or war never did. We bore it as we deserved.

When the rations ran out I escaped the riots and went down to the coasts. There was a rumor that a miracle persisted there, away from the hunters and the rovers. I chose to spend my last with the herd but there was no comfort in it. I could fill acres with a description of an elephant and it would be insufficient. I wish you had seen them, tall as trees and round as lorries.


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