Painted Pig at the Market by Tommia Wright

Today’s National Pig Day. Only reason I knew that was starting the day on a trivial search. (It pays to play hooky from work once in a while.)

So, today’s ficlet/fragment has nothing to do with the NaNo’s or anything else in progress. Only a five-minute rambling, inspired by a stroll through the market.

To Market, What Market?

Why was it always his turn to go to market? Week in and week out, the only one tasked with the chore, like he was nominated to be ‘first pig’ instead of first born. What was wrong with going to the zoo, the aquarium, or the deli for a roast beef sandwich instead?

On second thought, what was wrong with staying home, with jam and bread? No, that was not his lot in life.

Grabbing his coat, he muttered to himself, ‘To market, to market, like a fat pig. Then home again, broke again, oh jolly fig.’ What nonsense, what strife.

Golden Pig by Tommia Wright

Then again, maybe he’d be lucky and strike it rich? Meet someone with the Midas touch, without the paralyzing glitch.

Who was he kidding? He knew the score. It was his job to be the caretaker, provider, not the boar.

Today could be different, today could be grand. After all, there was enough allowance in place to still avoid spam.