by Annie Bien
Artha’s feet sank into sand, the tide swept waves forward, ocean swarmed his legs, stung his ankle wounds. He cringed, dreading the whip, shouts, lacerations. He sank torso deep. Stay still. No more fire, collapsing wood, temple crashing, shouts, running, no darted thigh, falling. He remembered the boy blowing into his trunk, whispering: “No more whips, marigold garlands covering chained legs, no beatings, no musicians pretending you’re Lord Ganesha. Look, these pink rocks: they’re you and me.” Artha smelled barnacles, seaweed, beached crabs, saw a boy balance pink rocks on a cairn, calling, “Artha!” The boy dried the elephant’s tears.
Wildlife SOS Spotlight
The author took her inspiration for this piece from the work of Wildlife SOS. An Indian organization, Wildlife SOS works to protect wildlife, conserve habitat, study biodiversity, and creating sustainable livelihoods for locals. Wildlife SOS aims to help elephants living in urban environments that are wounded, malnourished, and dehydrated, or being used illegally. The organization also takes action to remove abused elephants and to help them to retire in their elephant sanctuaries. Elephants Never has made a contribution to Wildlife SOS in honor of this piece.
(For other organizations working to protect elephants and improve human-pachyderm relations, please visit our adoption page. – Elephants Never)
Annie Bien is author of two poetry collections—Under Shadows of Stars (Kelsay Books, 2017) and Plateau Migration (Alabaster Leaves Press, 2012). For flash fiction: third place at Strands International Flash Fiction Competition, runner up at Faber Academy in QuickFic, and published in other literary journals. She is a translator of Tibetan Buddhist Scriptures for 84000. Find her online at http://anniebien.com.