Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Piggie in a Blanket

The skin from it's back lay dripping with the stench of rotting carcase. The glory of moments past drip with each hemoglobin drop, but somehow the heavy heart still beats strong to her drum.

Every false move the pig makes to try and escape the stall - the imprisonment of a pigs freedom and opportunity has result in game over. Surely beyond the stall lay green grass and a place to rest a head and feel at home. What a grotesque creature the pig is. Now laying sulking all the greed and miss opportunities to be a better pig. To show pigs are not just a muddy hog full of rotten thoughts of shit and self. That much like tenderloin, the pig required steady massages to maintain her pace. All the years of running away from her abusing farmers had caught up to the pig and not a movement was left where she didn't complain and shoot her mouth at the beautiful lama in the pen beside her. A white pearl with a pink glow, the lama appears, enticing the pig to want more and more of the lama's company. The lama full of wisdom about what grasses to eat and what movements would help to keep the pig's movements better with age. However quickly the pig losses sight of the lama's beauty and just proceed to complain about all the wrongs that happened to her each day, that didn't make a right. The pig is an idiot.

Each day the pig wants to love the lama more. There as no denying the lama is beautiful inside and out. Why would such a young and supple lama want to spend time with a pig beyond her glory days? With little gas in the tank to even tie a pig tail into a neat knot. The pig never deserves the ear of the lama, but somehow they became the best of kin. Soul friends, companions, some of the birds swore even the brightest of lovers.

As the blood outlines the moment to reveal a horrendous scene, it really is not sure if it is a murder or a self-hanging.
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