Posted as two 250-worders on successive days. First of all, on the 30th October:

I: Pigs Can Really Move

As he pulled into his driveway after work, Matt saw right away something didn’t look right. He parked his truck and walked across the road. First he noticed his newspaper tube was lying on the ground. He’d had it mounted on a steel fence post—the kind you string barbed wire on. The post was now bent flat. Then he looked out into the field and saw fresh tire tracks that led about twenty yards and stopped. At the end of the tracks he saw an old wooden trailer busted up beyond repair. He started to put it together. The trailer had run over his post and newspaper tube. Four or five kids began surrounding him.

“Hey, what happened here?” Matt asked the kids.
“That trailer ran over your post, mister,” the biggest kid said.
“Yeah, I see that, but where did it come from?”
“It came unhitched from an old pickup came through here couple minutes ago.”
“And they didn’t stop to get their trailer?”
“Naw, it ain’t worth nothin’, now.”
“Well, what was in the trailer?” Matt asked
“Pigs,” the biggest kid said.
“Then what happened to the pigs?” Matt asked.
“Aw, they all took off into the woods.”

As he pulled up the post and tried to straighten it, Matt wondered where the pigs might be by this time. He knew they could run a lot faster than most people thought. But it was none of his affair.


Then on the 31st October:

II: Pigs Again

Matt read about the huge pig farms in the Midwest and the lawsuits over their odor. His first experience with pigs came when he talked to a neighbor about an easement. The neighbor was in his hog shed so Matt had to talk to him there. He got within thirty feet when it hit him—a palpable smell, like a wall. Matt choked and could barely take another breath. He stopped and waited for the guy to come out. His neighbor had about ten pigs, but he’d been cleaning the shed and had disturbed the straw on its floor. He also had manure on his boots. So Matt had a tough time talking to him. Someone had said the farms in the Midwest smelled like sulfur and ammonia. It wasn’t like either of those, though. He just associated it with pigs and would never forget it. He couldn’t imagine how a farm with tens of thousands of hogs on it would smell.

Later, another neighbor, who lived across the road, began raising fifty or sixty pigs. The smell filled up the twelve-acre field between their houses. Matt kept the windows shut tight. It made no difference. The smell insinuated itself around his windows and under his doors. Fortunately, the pig-raising neighbor lost money at it and never tried it again.

If he ever considered moving to the Midwest, Matt knew he’d have to research carefully to assure no pig farmers lived nearby—as in a nearby county. 

Adel, a friend’s wife was off limits, yet she caused a rousing knot in my stomach. There was something about Adel, and the way she said things that engulfed my mind and body causing a rush of blood to my face.

“What was that about?” she provokingly asked.

Hardly keeping the excitement out of my voice, I could only say, “Don’t pack too much, I’ll carry the stuff!”

Her ensuing wry smile, invoking in me clichés of crystal glass and angel voices of strong Afrikaner women, said, “Luckily with the kids on a Sunday school outing and Konrad in in Cape Town for rugby we’ll have the mountains to ourselves until nightfall?”

“Fantastic, we can roam the mountains and swim in the waterfall pools uninterrupted!”

“Take that glint out of your eyes; you should know me by now!”

“Yes, but one day I’ll change your mind, hopefully today”

After a moment of solicitous silence she picked up her day-pack saying: “Come Mister, time to get rid of all that extra energy.”

One climbing the slopes I thought, “Maybe I should write a story about women in control, and why I’m attracted to them and not playful women. Adele is out of reach of us libidinous men. Yet, is she? I can’t remove this nagging but exciting thought conjured in the back of my mind of the meaning of her pause.”

On reaching the pool Adel quietly unbuttoned her skirt saying. “Len, don’t look so startled, here we are part of nature?”

Luckily the knot in my stomach moving downwards was quelled by the cold mountain water. I frivolously broke the ensuing silence saying, “Look at those drops of water dancing on the ripples of the falling water; want to hear the physics of it?”

After another moment of silence she said, “Let’s rather just lie quietly and enjoy this moment of serenity.”

“Damn you Adele, expecting me to lie quietly with your body so close to mine.”

I broke the ensuing silence saying, “Horrible, that hawk caught the dassie as it came out from the rocks to drink.”

Turning around to look, her hand softly brushed against my skin. While still wondering whether it was an accident she said, “Horrible yes, but it’s the law of nature.”

I wanted to say, ‘Law of Nature; I would have thought you would say the will of God, ‘when I felt the softness of her breast move over my chest. Her beautiful honey coloured hair gently tickling my face while her lips, wet and soft, covertly then urgently cling to mine

Our bodies became one when the majestic mountains, the fairy-tale clouds, and rock faces reaching into heaven became non-existent. All that I was aware of was this moment – the falling water now seeming like a roar - this body - the soft enticing breasts - her soft and wanting lips. I folded my arms around her. There was no time to wonder about right or wrong after our bodies made the decision. The moment was now. When I reached into the inner parts of her being she cried out - the mountain the only witness.