I believed I was safe despite the wildness of the Kalahari, despite baboons running in the distance behind giant termite mounds. Despite wild dogs yapping and lion cubs rolling in the dust. The safari vehicle was designed for this. The driver was trained for this, and I was high in the back, protected. But then, there it was. A bull elephant at 10 o’clock. He lowered his head, lifted his ears, lifted them more, suddenly moving towards us, towards me, high in the rear, face to face with a charging elephant. We roll out of range. I can breathe again.
In retirement Eileen Mardres writes poetry, mini memoirs, and flash fiction. Find her on fiftywordstories.com.