When Pigs Fly

They came through the night quietly. They walked through the hills, in the trees and across creeks. The sound of thousands of cloven feet walking down streets in the early hours of the morning sounded like falling rain.

When I raised my garage door to go to the gym, I stopped and stared. The streets were crawling with piglets, like ants on a picnic table. A crescendo of snorts and grunts filled the air.

"Num num num num num," the pigs oinked happily. Rooting along the street, chomping on the bermuda grass, the pigs were in heaven. A few moseyed up to the driveway and stood in front of me.

"Hello!" they grunted, smacking their lips. "Your grass is quite tasty! Do you have any more?"

"In the backyard," I stuttered, my eyes wide.

"May we sample that grass?" the pigs asked politely. "Please?"

"Sure," I said, gesturing to the gate. The pigs began trotting toward the gate. When my brain finally connected that I needed to open the gate, the pigs were standing in front of it. Suddenly, they flew over it. I was so startled, I sat down in the middle of the driveway, nearly landing on a baby pig.

"Excuse you!" the pig said crossly, scooting out of the way. Seeing my empty lap, his face brightened. "Might I lay here for awhile?"

"Sure," I said, dazed. As several small pigs crawled into my lap, nudging my stomach and burrowing in my thighs, I tried to process what I just saw. Piggies just flew over my fence. What was going on?

"How did you fly?" I asked the pigs. They were too busy fighting over who got the best place in my lap to answer. Suddenly, a familiar fluttering whispered in my ear.

"What is going on?" I asked. "How are the pigs flying?"

"Why not fly?" the butterfly whispered.

"I don't understand," I said, frustrated. One of the piglets began squealing at another piglet and shoved him with his shoulder.

"You don't understand because you're thinking. You have to feel and not think. Close your eyes."

I closed my eyes and leaned back. Understanding suddenly flooded my mind. I understood. I understood everything. I opened my eyes and saw the smiling pigs flying above me. The butterfly danced around the flying pigs as the morning sun began to rise. The pigs raised their voices into a song, a song that told of.....

Suddenly, my eyes flew open. The alarm was shrieking at me- "UP UP UP! HURRY HURRY! GYM GYM GYM!"

The magic of the pigs was threatening to fade away. Quickly, I squeezed them tight. They were still there, flying against the sunlit sky. For you see in my world- pigs can fly.