June. Sunset Drive, California. An alley cat emerges from a garbage can and takes to the strip. A Coke can is tied to its paw with a purple hair ribbon. The can bounces behind the cat, skittish in the dust.
In the distance, a herd of elephants descends on the town from out of the hills. They are wearing velveteen smoking jackets and discussing their next stampede. Three of them are missing their trucks.
Above, an egret flies over the strip, shadowing an old yellow Cadillilac as it winds its way through the streets. The bird is flying without expending any energy – as if he were a plastic toy hanging above the car, suspended from its antenna.
Elephant: That damn bird’s been following us.
Cat: I saw him three days ago, hanging from the rearview mirror of somebody’s car.
Elephant: Who do you think he’s shadowing.
Cat: Rapture, I guess.