I stride to class, passing towering lockers. Each step vibrates with power as I take up space that gives no care for weight or measure. I navigate the halls of junior high with seventh-grade confidence and high hopes of making new friends. Up ahead, I hear pounding feet. I feel the slap of sneakers on the linoleum. A herd of gorgeous gazelles chants, "Indian elephant!" as I pass by. Their words echo in my ears. I shrink and attempt to step lightly. I'd teach myself to be small for an elephant. I lost much that day, except for this memory.
Nina Miller is an Indian-American physician, epee fencer, and creative. She finds micromemoirs therapeutic. Enjoy her published work on her website, www.ninamillerwrites.com.