The God

a practice writing

An elephant. The water stain on the ceiling resembled an elephant. The eye, a black spot, the trunk pointed toward the mirror.

I watched the tendrils of steam rise from the bathwater. They reminded me of incense, carrying the scent of the bubbles in my water to the Elephant God.

Baptism.

I lowered my head to the water until only my nose was sticking out. Held my breath as long as I could before rising out of the water, gasping. The water began to cool, I washed my hair and climbed out .After wrapping myself in my favorite robe, I drained the water, glanced at the Elephant God, wondering if he'd captured all of the prayers I'd sent up.