We go through the motions of civility.
The elephant looks on.
She is wearing a bright pink tutu,
With silver spangles.
She, (the elephant)
Knows it looks ridiculous.
But how else does she get our attention?
Despite all her attempts,
Pulling faces, blowing raspberries and calling our names,
Neither of us will stray from the script.
We smile and make banal small talk.
I feel my stomach squeeze into a tighter ball.
The meeting ends.
I put my hand on the elephant's shoulder reassuringly.
Maybe next time we'll ditch the fancy dress.
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