Pig's Monolonage
Pig’s snout was cold. Positively frozen, in fact. He feared that the frost which had been creeping across his window would soon blanket him as well, yet he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t afford to lose this staring contest; Mrs Jenkins would gloat for weeks, and he wouldn’t allow that. Pig remembered the last time, after the incident with the lar-
Thud.
Flecks of hail began bombarding the window, and Pig flinched. He saw the satisfaction spread over Mrs Jenkins’ face, the slimy, smug, self-satisfied swine. Miffed, he trotted to his french horn, certain that practising some tunes would subdue his exasperation. He had no such luck, because at that moment, the doorbell rang. Not once. Not twice. Nine times. That could only mean one thing:
“BIG …show more content…
“Dez, why’re you here? And why’re you wearing your gran’s parka? You look stupid!”
Desmond’s cheeks reddened and he cleared his throat before he spoke.
“Have you seen the weather, Pig? There’s thunder and lightning! There’s driving rain! It hurt my face!”
“That’s hail. Are you here because you’re scared?”
A deep blush confirmed Pig’s suspicions.
“Coward,” he spat. A branch snapped outside.
Tears welled in Dez’s eyes.
“I’ve told you before: you have to grow up! Your fear makes you useless, Desmond.”
The dam broke. A tear dripped off of Dez’s nose.
“Or maybe, Pig, you need to learn some sympathy! Why are you so rude? What have I done?”
“What have you done, exactly? Nothing. For 15 years, your fears have paralysed you and you have done nothing!”
Another branch snapped. Desmond flinched. He shuffled to the door, tears shining in his blue eyes, and tugged at the handle.
“Goodbye, Pig.”
The door slammed, and a picture crashed to the floor.
Desmond tried calling. Several times. Pig threw his phone out the window. He didn’t associate with cowards. Or anyone else, apparently. He hadn’t left his home in days, but he’d run out of French Horn Cleaning Fluid, and it was quickly gathering dust. That wouldn’t do, and so Pig ventured
Thud.
Flecks of hail began bombarding the window, and Pig flinched. He saw the satisfaction spread over Mrs Jenkins’ face, the slimy, smug, self-satisfied swine. Miffed, he trotted to his french horn, certain that practising some tunes would subdue his exasperation. He had no such luck, because at that moment, the doorbell rang. Not once. Not twice. Nine times. That could only mean one thing:
“BIG …show more content…
“Dez, why’re you here? And why’re you wearing your gran’s parka? You look stupid!”
Desmond’s cheeks reddened and he cleared his throat before he spoke.
“Have you seen the weather, Pig? There’s thunder and lightning! There’s driving rain! It hurt my face!”
“That’s hail. Are you here because you’re scared?”
A deep blush confirmed Pig’s suspicions.
“Coward,” he spat. A branch snapped outside.
Tears welled in Dez’s eyes.
“I’ve told you before: you have to grow up! Your fear makes you useless, Desmond.”
The dam broke. A tear dripped off of Dez’s nose.
“Or maybe, Pig, you need to learn some sympathy! Why are you so rude? What have I done?”
“What have you done, exactly? Nothing. For 15 years, your fears have paralysed you and you have done nothing!”
Another branch snapped. Desmond flinched. He shuffled to the door, tears shining in his blue eyes, and tugged at the handle.
“Goodbye, Pig.”
The door slammed, and a picture crashed to the floor.
Desmond tried calling. Several times. Pig threw his phone out the window. He didn’t associate with cowards. Or anyone else, apparently. He hadn’t left his home in days, but he’d run out of French Horn Cleaning Fluid, and it was quickly gathering dust. That wouldn’t do, and so Pig ventured