the Elephant in the Grave

Trigger warnings: suicide, grief, mental health and many challenges that come with the loss of a loved one.

Author's note: This short story was a spontaneous challenge I took upon myself after reflecting on how this prompt could pertain to my life. Six months ago my partner killed themself and ever since, the elephant in the room wasn't just the tapestry on my wall; my elephant became all the heavy themes I hold in relation to the grief, especially when I no longer feel welcome to share and discuss the things I now deal with. Turns out there was a lot to unpack, much of which I just couldn't fit into just a 3k short story which I wrote in one night. All of the instances in the story are inspired by various real life experiences. This isn't a happy story, there won't be a satisfying end, but I'm curious what elephant you pick up on through this story, which was intentionally left a little vague.

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Alone in the house by the cliffside, the woman in black locked her door with all three bolts before retreating to the balcony with a teacup in hand. It’d been such a “normal” day – but her tears threatened to spill with every inhale. Holding the cup with shaky hands, she took the first long sip, letting her body sink deep into the sofa.  

“That’s better.” she sighed. “I know the aunties mean well, but titans below – it’s as if they’ve never known...” she trailed off, unable to complete the sentence before getting choked up. She spoke to no one in particular; there hadn’t been anyone with her on this balcony in months. 

She regenerated what strength she could from the bottom of the cup, seeking healing in the leaves that now swam into the same pattern they always did, ever since she had donned the black veils that give dignity to her tear-stained face, her eyes heavy with sleepless nights. The image in the cup settled into the shape of an elephant. 

Groaning, she got up to wash out the foul image from the porcelain. She was tired of seeing elephants. The local wise woman insisted it was good fortune, good news – but the only thing she felt in common with the sturdy giant was a long memory. Are elephants haunted by dreams of memories at night? Did they lie awake wishing for a better time they knew they once had?  

She could already hear the echoes of the townsfolks’ words. “Penny dear, come outside! All this time inside can't do you any good, your garden hasn’t bloomed all spring!" The aunties would say. "We miss your pretty roses.” 

Penelope trusted their words were intended to be sincere, but there was nothing less important than her silly garden now. Things changed when her husband died six months ago. It felt like yesterday when she found his body submerged in the river. 

She needed to vomit. Not daring to risk a race to the washroom again, she turned to the sink and heaved. It’d take her by surprise sometimes – the tea had just finally calmed her when her body betrayed her, rattled with trauma. 

“You look pale, love – have a peach” A peach seller told her at the weekly market. She’d thanked the merchant, but the half-bitten peach was left to rot in the kitchen for weeks before Penelope’s family came by to help restock and clean up. Working up an appetite was always a challenge, and keeping the food down the chute was even harder. 

Having wiped up the last of the bile, she retreated to her room, trying to take it easy. It took everything she had to ignore the loneliness the room held as she forced herself to sleep. “Tomorrow will be another day!” her neighbor had said earlier that day. It was the same thing he always said after an unsuccessful day at work. But this wasn’t work – it was her life. She tossed about in her sleep, unconsciously trying to find her lover at night, only to jerk awake when the realization would strike in her nightmares. Her pillow would be soaked by the time she fell asleep and again when she woke. 

The next day promised itself to be “normal” just like the last. The money provided by the city council was running low, and she’d be expected to provide for herself again once that was up – there would be no further accommodation. As the sun rose, she dragged herself out of bed and did her best to weed out the old garden. She used to sell flowers. By now, she was late for this season – even if she began planting today, it was unlikely she’d be able to sell anything for the next two or three months. 

She tried to plan for her garden when she suddenly stopped mid weed pull. What little strength she'd mustered up to tend to her garden abandoned her body as she thought of his favorites. She thought of his smile, the way he’d delight in a fresh bouquet of stargazer lilies. “You said you wanted to see the world with me.” she whispered to the ground. 

When she could no longer take the flood of memories that overtook her attention from work, she went to the town square to find comfort in its noise. She ordered the usual grilled cheese and sat in the same place he used to take her, in a corner of the outside patio. 

“Oh my gosh, Pen!” shouted a bright, familiar voice. Having been spotted by a friend through the glass, Penelope was joined by the town’s darling, Evangelica. Cheerful and sociable, she was adored by just about everyone, but Penelope dreaded whatever came next from this life of the party. 

“It’s so good to see you out again – You know Linus wouldn’t want you to be so alone all the time~ Oh, I know! Let’s go out for a date sometime!!” 

“What the fuck, Eve??” Usually, Penelope did her best to stay composed, but this was just absurd. 

“Oh, come on, Penny, I know you’ve been gloomy lately, but things always get better eventually! You just have to give it a chance to. Who knows, maybe a new date will help you get your mind off of everything! I know some fresh eligibles who can totally relate to what you’re going through that I could set you up with—” 

“Please, Eve, stop.” Penelope cut her off. “This is ridiculous. This isn’t just me being gloomy and stubborn – Linus was everything to me. You realize he’s dead, right? We didn’t just break up, we...” 

She couldn’t even look at Evangelica anymore. “No, I’m not interested in your help with my love life, thanks.” 

“Gosh, Penny, you’ve really changed. You used to be so fun! I’m kind of hurt, really.” she pouted. “He’s in a better place now, you should let yourself get over it already. This isn’t making anything better for anyone, you know.” 

Penelope shook her head and got up. “This really isn’t even about you, and honestly, I’m pretty worn out. I'm going to head out, but please, enjoy your time here.” 

Evangelica gave a small gasp at Penelope’s swift departure, but quickly shifted her attention elsewhere, finding a newspaper more worthwhile.  

On the way home, Penelope stopped by the flower shop she worked closely with. Although they were basically rival stores, they kept a close connection to support each other. A little bell rang as she stepped through the door, and she was greeted by the fragrant smells of peonies, roses and hyacinths.  

“Oh, hey Pen.” Charlie said with a soft wave from behind the counter. They were a gentle and respectful sort, and Penelope was relieved by the breath of fresh air knowing Charlie understood what it was like to lose someone. It wasn’t the same loss, but enough to share a sense of understanding. “Have you eaten today?” 

“Well, I was about to have something at the cafe, but I had an unpleasant encounter so I might have left before I could get anything served...” she realized. She hadn’t even thought of the food when she left.  

“I brought in some cookies today for the team. You should have some too, here.” they said, bringing up a bag from under the counter, opening it up for the offer. 

“Thanks, Charlie.” Penelope said and accepted a few, right as the door chimed again. 

“If it isn’t Penelope!!” greeted the entrant. 

“Marjorie!” Charlie said, immediately more alert with their boss in the establishment. She wasn’t often at the flower shop, but her presence changed the whole energy. Penelope gave a polite smile, but knew that she would have to wrap up her business here quickly if she wanted peace of mind. 

“How’ve you been, what are your plans this year? You’ve been almost making it too easy for us without rivals these past few months!” Marjorie laughed jubilantly.  

“Well, I haven’t gotten around to planting yet, so I was hoping to collect some seeds from you to help me get started.” admitted Penelope. 

“No seeds?? Penelope, still? Life moves on, darling, you gotta get back into your life too!” she tutted. “What he did was wrong, you can’t let yourself keep wallowing like this.” 

Penelope sighed, but she knew there was no getting out of this. “It’s been difficult, Marjorie, our competition will just have to wait.” 

“Right, well, don’t forget, you still have us, so...” Marjorie hesitated, doing what could only be her best attempt at expressing support. “Let us know what you need.” 

“Of course.” she said, and got right back to business to see what might still work to grow this season. 

Having completed their exchange, Marjorie went to the back office, and Charlie cringed in sympathy regarding Marjorie’s earlier outburst.  

“You know she means well...” Charlie said, apologetically. 

“Sure. There’s just better ways of going about it.” Penelope shrugged, and headed back out, hopeful that this was the last of the uncomfortable social encounters for the day, but knowing this was just the new way of things. 

At first when his death had unfolded, everyone had something to say. Everyone offered to help, but in her sickly state of grief, Penelope could do nothing but weep in her bed tomb, and most interpreted the silence as a need for space. 

With the new reality sinking in, Penelope knew that a part of her died with him, and she yearned to have it back at any cost. She wanted to wake up from this living nightmare, finally see him again at her side come morning but only ever woke to the same endless and suffocating reality; alone, hurting, and hopelessly lost – frozen in the moment where she lost her everything. 

Under all the pressure, Penelope was forced to make quick decisions regarding the following proceedings. 

The two of them had come from a different place before, so it was up to Penelope to inform all those that lived back in their hometown, unable to offer more than her deepest apologies as she barely held the spirit to live without him – but pushing herself through it nonetheless to ensure her love had only the very best aftercare she could muster. Linus’ body had been burned – some of the ashes were spread, and some she kept close to her heart in a pendant.  

She kept all his belongings, letting it crowd her space. She could never bring herself to sort through it all, but she thought of it every day – it was unavoidable. His maps had been strewn about across walls and his office, pins sticking out from all the spots he once dreamt of taking his beloved. Their mementos from every journey they went on, arranged on the shelves in chronological order. She wouldn’t have it any other way, but some nights it took a toll on her; seeing everything that made her believe their troubles would turn out alright gathered in front of her felt like a taunt. If this was punishment, she felt she deserved it.  

Through it all, most spoke of their sympathies, some demanded answers none could know, and others went as far as condemning him – because his death was of his own design. As time wore on, people simply moved on to the next piece of news, forgetting that this wouldn’t just be a one-day event for the grieving. The loss would become a permanent daily experience and his absence would be felt by those who knew him. Eventually, it felt like everyone else was ready to move on, and that they had tired of Penelope’s newfound stagnancy; nothing changed with her anymore. It would always be Linus this, Linus that – he was always on her mind. Some knew that this was true before things got dark, but now, it consumed her. Haunted her, even. 

Most days she wondered if she’d make it out of bed, so all things considered, perhaps today was a successful day, despite still having been able to make mostly no progress whether the matter was caring for herself or her garden. 

Finally home, she entrusted her secrets to the willow tree just out back behind her property where she used to make memories with Linus. 

“Is this so wrong?” she started, stumbling for where to start. “Am I so wrong for missing you? Nothing has been right since you left. How could you have done this – to me, to us? We had so much ahead of us. I know that the questions I hold can never be answered and truly it keeps me awake at night.” Her eyes welled and she let herself break down. “And I’m mad at myself, because where was I, that you found no other way to deal with your troubles than break away from it all? How could I have let that happen to you? Why couldn’t you trust me?” she wept to the roots of the tree, wishing to anything to be able to hold him again. “Linus...” she spoke his name with an endless foundation of love and heartbreak. There was nothing that could fix this, but speaking his name felt like maybe he could hear it after all. “I miss you, Linus.” she breathed shakily, closing her eyes. “I love you.” she spoke in a promise that could only be heard by the tree at which she now slept. 

The bitter comfort of speaking under their tree would be all Penelope could do to maintain a sense of connection. She’d recount the memories – some full of delight, and others full of regret – but all treasured equally. Penelope wished at times for a friend to just sit down with her and share what they could remember as well, no matter how many times she’d heard it from Linus himself before. 

Maybe she was stuck in the past, but if that’s where Linus now lived, she’d be sure to follow. For now, she would continue to speak by the tree they had shared, with leaves swirling into elephants in the tea that she drank.