Elephant Tube

An elephant and hippopotamus collide on the tube, their entrails explode and enclose us all. In a deep snore we are stuck, an unmusical tune of clanging, bustle, grinding and flapping flesh. What strangeness emerges from the vibration of air. I spoke with the breeze as it filed through the tunnels, and innocently it admitted that this wasn't its cause. To move only was its intention, where and how it can singularly do; but flap and clang on flesh and metal the air supposed it'd never do.