Pork Chops

Visiting my grandma was always a pleasant experience. From watching her roam around the farm, to seeing her sitting down looking at the sunset, to simply watching her idle by always gave me a sense of warmth.

My most cherished memory of her was when she saved my life on that hot, dry afternoon from a vicious leviathan that chased me. I woke up late that day. I got up and ate breakfast while everyone was gone. I showered and wore a set of clean clothes. Once I made it to the back of the farm, I proceeded to play with the farm animals.

At first, I played with the goats. I always loved riding them till they would get mad and buck me off. Most often I would land on my two feet, but sometimes I would land on my back, and would roll over as they would charge at me with their heads pointed down.

The young goat nudged me softly as if attacking me like one of its elders. I got up and brushed myself off. Once up, the goat went back to eating alfalfa. And it was right after that I jumped over the fence and greeted the pigs whom were eating by the cacti.

I went up to the biggest one and jumped on its back. It went off running wild, scared for its life. At least that’s what I thought. It went running straight towards the cacti. I got a bit scared and froze as it came crashing into one. It toppled over and sent me flying onto the ground.

I stood up and felt the sharp pain from being pricked by the needles. When I looked to my side, I spotted the pig coming after me, enraged like a wild beast. He was huge and growled as he came at me. He had a huge snout with sharp teeth; he could surely eat me alive, and so I reacted quickly by running away.

As I ran through the cacti, dodging and sliding to avoid getting pricked, the only thing I could hear was my heart beat racing hard against my chest. I ran through the chicken coop and made a daring jump on the well towards the tree, hoping to catch onto the branch and pull myself up. But I slipped when my foot touched the well’s platform.

Because the well was old and fragile from constantly being weathered down and because of my weight, the edge crumbled. Without a solid foothold, I slipped and came crashing down into the mud. I felt my head pounding inside afterwards from face planting the ground.

I then turned around and saw the pig right behind, a few feet way. Its mouth was open, readied to take a chunk out of me. I embraced myself for that moment and closed my eyes. And right at that very moment, I heard the loud cries of the pig in pain blurt out.

I opened my eyes and spotted my grandma, her hand was cocked back halfway, holding a machete. Below her feet was the pig laying on the floor motionless.

That night we ate pork chops.

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