An Evening Encounter
As I sidewalked through Capitol Hill in twilight, through green lawns, upon uneven pavement, I slowly grew nearer to the young green-shirted woman walking her dog ahead of me. Which resolved into a young long-haired man walking his pig.
Drawing abreast I scrutinized the pig; short black hairs, large heavy body, softly grunting, small ugly tusks.
"Excuse me, what's his name?"
"Albert. Albert the pig."
"It's...uh...good to have a pig in the neighborhood" I said haltingly.
A block further down the road the thought comes: I bet pigs don't worry the way humans do about being fat. Isn't it better to accept yourself? But, suppose pigs do think about it? "Damn, what am I going to do about this pot belly?" pigs might exclaim, tragically I might add.
Copyright 1995 by Frank Brown