"The word would seem different somehow, taking on new properties, as I passed my cherished landmarks. 'Hippopotamus!' I would say as I passed the first leg of my journey, my grandparents' bedroom, where the word would absorb the comfort of my grandparents' bed, their clothing, the beauty of my grandmother's vanity table, and the smell of cedar drawers; then on to the bathroom yelling 'Hippopotamus!' where the word would absorb the smell of antiseptic, toilet bowl cleaner, baby powder, perfume, and toothpaste; through the second bedroom, where the word would absorb the light from the fixture on the ceiling, with its fascinating mobile. 'Hippopotamus, Hippopotamus!' I would repeat; I would veer around the corner where the front door stood across from the stairs going to the second floor, where the word would assimilate the power of the dark stairwell; I hurried on through the living room, where the television was always on, and the word would be injected with whatever scene was on the screen."

Songs of the Gorilla Nation, Dawn Prince-Hughes