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I profess not to be any great writer.

These are the ponderings

of a poor man's mind.

Nate Barker

The Elephant Keeper

Elephant and woman in kitchen

It's time for October's story, The Elephant Keeper. Thank you to those who have signed up for the "One Plan." If you haven't read or listened to the September story, The Missing Piece, I'd love to hear what you have to say about it. You can leave your thoughts in the comments section on the story's page. Hearing what you have to say means a lot to me!


For those still considering the "One Plan", you can still sign up! I will be selling stories from September of 2024 until August of 2025. You will be charged $12 for 12 stories. A new story will be released each month. You will have access to all stories, even if you sign up later in the yearly cycle.


You can read an excerpt from The Elephant Keeper below.



 


THE ELEPHANT KEEPER


Evelyn found herself the beast’s daily caretaker. The sheer volume of energy it took to regulate the behemoth was staggering. When she finally laid her head down in the evening, the monster could still be heard, demanding attention.


Its bulk always seemed in her way, keeping her from the simple peace her apartment could offer. Blocking dappled sunlight that struggled to climb through her kitchen window. Creating noises as she attempted to listen to records on her father’s vintage turntable. Even in the shower, Evelyn felt she had to move aside as the monster tried to scrub itself clean.


Each morning before Evelyn found her center, the titan would be at her ear demanding attention. With strings of dreams still connecting her to sleep, she found herself groaning, rolling over, and pulling the blankets above her head. Her disappearance beneath the cotton and polyester didn’t seem to confuse the brute. Its tickling appendage would find her, daring her to either feign sleep or get up and face the doldrum tasks of the morning.


Before leaving for work, Evelyn often attempted to trick the creature into staying behind. Sitting very still, nestled in the cushions of her gray couch, she would close her eyes and struggle to blend in. Like something hunted, she would work to control her breath, relax her body, and let her mind float free. When the exercise worked, she slipped out the door and turned the key silently in the lock. But more often, the colossus would invade, crashing into her personal space, trying to sit directly on her lap.


Had she tried to abandon it? Of course, but she found it too expensive to keep transporting it to different facilities and wranglers that said they could help. Had she tried to drown it? Yes, but she had found the struggle toxic and eventually needed to take multiple steps back in order to escape. What about simple murder? With the numerous ideas on how to be rid of the pestilence, the same thought would always return to her: “How do you quickly and without pain dispose of such a large body of evidence?”


The damage it had done, and the constant repairs that had to be made, were not easy to hide. But Evelyn was fairly certain she had kept this lumbering mass of wildness a secret, even when at some points along the way, she was unable to tell the difference between herself and it.


elephant icon

Flowers.


That’s all Evelyn could see as she walked into the funeral hall. A flood of vibrant colors, as if Noah’s rainbow had emptied its palette onto the tables and floors. Bouquets in vases, big and small, lined the side tables and sat along the edges of the room, while above them on the walls hung paintings of serene landscapes depicting meadows and forests. Near the front stood a flock of blossomed arrangements on thin easel legs, looking like overdressed herons strutting for mates. In the middle of their siege, a flowering cross made of carnations hung in silence, ready to prayerfully bless those who had come to mourn.... READ THE REST OF THE STORY BY SUBSCRIBING TO THE ONE PLAN.

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