(no subject)

Tuesday, July 15th, 2008 04:40 pm
miserywaterfall: (Default)
In 1986, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from
Northwestern University.

On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant
standing with one leg raised in the air.  The elephant seemed
distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully.

He got down on one knee, inspected the elephants foot, and found a large
piece of wood deeply embedded in it.  As carefully and as gently as he
could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the
elephant gingerly put down its foot.  The elephant turned to face the
man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for
several tense moments.  Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but
being trampled.  Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and
walked away.  Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that
day.

Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his
teenaged son.  As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the
creatures turned and walked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron
were standing.  The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its
front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that
several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if
this was the same elephant.  Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over
the railing, and made his way into the enclosure.  He walked right up to
the elephant and stared back in wonder.  The elephant trumpeted again,
wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs and slammed him against the
railing, killing him instantly.

Probably wasn't the same elephant.



This is for all of my friends who send me those heart-warming bullshit
stories.




HAHAH. That has honestly made me laugh so much, had to post it to look back on some day :D

(no subject)

Tuesday, August 1st, 2006 02:21 pm
miserywaterfall: (Default)
Old friends, old friends,
Sat on their parkbench like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the round toes
of the high shoes of the old friends

Old friends, winter companions, the old men
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sunset
The sounds of the city sifting through trees
Settle like dust on the shoulders of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today,
Sharing a parkbench quietly
How terribly strange to be seventy

Old friends, memory brushes the same years,
Silently sharing the same fears



















~ * ~

Time it was and what a time it was it was,
A time of innocence a time of confidences.

Long ago it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you.











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July 2008

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