Pig
Masayoshi Nishiyama
A grove was at the point of my eyes. A
whitish thing of an ellipse form was hanging
down from the third tree from my side of
the woods. When I approached, it was a pig.
A bedroom town in Tokyo. The housing development
spread out in the south side, and the residence
of a single-family house spread out in the
north side. A straight road was between just
them, and there was a park which is a size
of about two for ground of amateur baseball.
I came to here on business. It was the
first visit. There was a bench with a table.
I flung an attache case, and sat down. The
mark of the handle was stuck to my palm.
I had a smoke, and turned my eyes in the
direction which the sun sets in. Then, I
did because I stood up.
The pig was hanging itself.
Although I was confused, to be sure, it
was a pig. Besides, the situation was clearly
different from it which is hanging down from
the butcher. First of all, that pig was alive.
It was a white and beautiful pig.
It seemed to be a male, and to be still
young. Our eyes met. It seemed that he was
laughing.
"Hey, What are you doing in such a
place?"
I tried to shake it. Then, he took out
the gums and said "Hi my brother, don't
you try to do like me?". For some reason,
that pig could speak a language.
A soccer ball has rolled over here. A young
mother ran in pursuit of it here. A smell
of woman drifted. "Isn't she nice?"
That pig said, and winked.
"More than such a thing, aren't you
painful?"
"Yes, I am."
When I thought that the neck of a pig would
be where, he taught "It's here".
However, his forelimb was too short and I
did not understand it well where he pointed
at.
A woman who took a dog came from a narrow
path over there. She looked suspiciously
at me, and went past at a quick pace. The
dog barked.
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