It was the day the pigs were going to slaughter, always a somber affair. It’s hard not to get attached to the little buggers. They may look all the same to the untrained eye, but to someone who sees them everyday, each are unique with their own personality. I was going to miss them.
I looked at the pens behind them, at their mothers and the small piglets that suckled at them. There were not enough, no where near enough, to fulfil our orders once they grew up. The farm had been running at a loss for the last three years, and this could finish us. We needed more meat.
The bus pulled in at the stop, a couple of children got on as the bus driver exited the vehicle. He ran into the alleyway and promptly began to relieve himself. I jumped onto the vehicle and the door shut.
The bus pulled away. The driver startled, turned around with his pants around his ankles, and hobbled towards the departing vehicle. I smiled, a bus load of children, this could work…