Piggies

A Story by Stan Denski

A short, short, short story. Trying to tell a story in a manner as if a short story and haiku had a child.

“Have you seen the little piggies?” she asked the child. The little boy looked to be about four and enraged over the fundamental unfairness of the world as only a four year old can be. Purple with anger, screaming; perhaps nature’s way of weeding out those of us born with arterial faults before we can reproduce. The boy seemed pretty strong, and inconsolable. But the woman tried, gently pulling him over to the enclosure where a smiling Llama stood by the rail. The beast had a genuine oddness about it that stopped the boy in his tracks. Face still wet, his color returned and he stared at the shaggy chewing orange-brown monster that towered over him. Now the child had that look of awe that Huxley described, albeit in a different context altogether, as seeing “what Adam saw on the morning of creation.” The thought struck me as I watched the boy’s face; this is a brave new world each and every time.

© 2009 Stan Denski

Author's Note

This is part of a collection called "The White Album" in which the first lines of all 30 tracks of the Beatles album will serve as the opening lines of 30 pieces of writing ranging from short stories to poems.