The last thing she expected to see was an elephant. But there were hundreds, all around her. They were dancing, stomping their feet, down and up, up and down.
The dust made her throat sore. It circled and exploded and settled under the painful sunshine.
All of a sudden she realised that she had created them. She had created this dry earth, this beating sun.
They stopped. The thudding had been getting lighter and lighter and now - nothing. With horror, she realised that they were waiting
...
Inhuman eyes bored into her skin. The silence, the dust, the sun. A gust of wind disturbed the sand which floated and then sunk. A sound in the distance, faint at first, carried on the breeze, closer and closer.
A voice - swirling and soaring over the repetitive beat. It was inside her. It took her over. She was possessed. Drunk on the music, the desert, the isolation.
She was blown gently into the middle of the circle. The eyes still fixed on her. This time she did not look away. She faced them head on. And then, slowly, she began to dance.
Slowly, surely, she began to dance. Twirling, sparkling, exploding. Possessed, she was no longer in control of her body. Taken over by a force outside of her she got faster and faster. Hypnotised, powerless, she became God.
...
The elephants were working themselves up into a frenzy. They began to spin and stamp and thrust their trunks into the blue nothingness. Stamping, spitting, turning and whirling like demons.
Their trunks were erect. She began to stroke. Holding them, feeding off them - A demented banshee, an inflamed old sybil cackling out into the desert.
She pushed the red ball deeper and deeper inside her body, swallowing it whole. The laughter wrenched through her insides, tore her open, exploded out and vanished.
...
Nothing left - No sound - No vision - No movement. Just fangs, and tusks, and rusted skin.
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