Standing in front of his uncle’s furniture store on Northumberland Street at 6.30am, this wasn’t what Clement had expected; a huge crate blocking the whole road. ‘Cirque Fernando’ was written on the side and a procession of painted circus animals trooped around the foot of the crate. At the front of the crate, right above two leather straps and the red painted letters ‘NE PAS OUVRIR SANS AIDE!’ was a round hole. Clement considered the crate for a moment then, edging closer and, on tiptoes, moved his eye up to the hole. He immediately jumped back, letting out a small ‘yelp’ and quickly moving his hands between his legs, (he feared he would relieve himself). He tentatively edged forwards and raised himself again to look through the hole. The giant, deep brown eye blinked back at him; its long, curled eyelashes brushing the other side of the crate.

Later, years later. Clement would look at that photograph and not really believe he’d opened that crate, led the elephant the length of Northumberland Street and into the store where it had turned so slowly, instinctively sitting down on the waiting sofa. Clement did remember he’d looked into the elephant’s sad eyes and felt a change inside himself. His future lay away from this store, this street, this town. His life would happen somewhere else.

Lotie Parker was born in London, grew up in Newcastle and still lives in the North of England. Having finished her first novel, she is now working on her second alongside writing short stories and flash fiction. Her work was shortlisted for the Writers Retreat Award and has been published in The Daily Drunk Mag and Minute Magazine.