this is an excellent piece, really fine work. a must!
They could feel the elephant behind the curtain, the mysterious Ganesh, an enormous swaying ghost. Or maybe it was because the reporters knew he was there—the elephant was, after all, their reason for congregating inside the stifling tent. Already ties had been loosened and jackets removed and tossed onto the backs of wooden foldup chairs, and the whiskey was making its rounds via the black-tied waiter. The men half-listened to Frank Fox as he gestated and ballyhooed about chasing the elephant through dank dark Indian jungles dodging pythons and headhunters, before rescuing it from the claws of Bengalese tigers that had leapt on its back as it drank from a river.
John Taylor wiped his brown and watched the pop of the curtain next to his chair. The curtain billowed and there was a low moaning behind it, and he swore he could hear the beast’s breathing. John poked his…
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