reflection of inner

The rhinoceros woke to find half his body made of angles, pistons and empty spaces. ‘Incomplete,’ declared the mechanic, and fastened him to a machine designed to hide every gap. The woman at the controls kept the engine running so no one could hear the loose pieces knocking. One afternoon the balloon’s shadow crossed his side.

For a second, every empty shape filled with a different colour. ‘Stop,’ he said. The woman hesitated; the machine had never been switched off. When silence came, the missing pieces did not fall apart.

Light simply passed through them, drawing patterns on the ground. People gathered to see. The rhinoceros had spent years covering what made him visible. Now his so-called defects showed everyone where the sun was.