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🐘 The Refrigerator

We were told to put the elephant in the fridge. No one asked why. We assumed it was part of the curriculum.

The children gathered around the appliance, which hummed with a kind of knowing. The elephant, named Harold or maybe not, stood politely. He had questions. We had none.

“Is this necessary?” he asked. We said yes, though we weren’t sure. Someone mentioned preservation. Someone else said symbolism.

We opened the door. The light inside flickered like a dying star. The elephant peered in, sniffed the leftover lasagna, the jar of pickled beets, the expired yogurt.

“I don’t belong here,” he said. We nodded. But belonging was not the point.

The principal came by and said it was a metaphor. The custodian said it was a mistake. The librarian said it was beautiful.

The elephant sat down. The fridge closed itself. We waited.

Later, we wrote essays titled Cold Pachyderm and The Ethics of Compression. No one got an A. But everyone felt something.

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"🐘 Fridge Light"

They said to put it in

Didn’t ask why

Didn’t ask when

Just opened the door

The light blinked twice

Like it knew more

He stood there, quiet skin

Maps of places I’ve never been

“Do I belong?” he said

I said nothing

But nodded instead

Pickled beets, frozen pie

Lasagna from last July

He’s too big

I’m too small

We don’t fit

But we stall

Put the elephant in

Let the fridge decide

Let the metal bend

Let the ketchup cry

It’s not about space

It’s not about skin

It’s just about

What we keep in

The principal said “It’s deep”

The janitor said “It leaks”

The librarian said “It sings”

I said “I think it breathes”

He sat down

The fridge closed

I wrote an essay

No one knows

Got no grade

But I felt

Something cold

Something melt

Put the elephant in

Even if he breaks

Even if he bends

Even if he aches

It’s not about truth

It’s not about win

It’s just about

What we keep in