Propaganda, A 100 Word Story

Wilbur grunted in pain. The operation had left him alive, but weak and very much lighter.

Once he had been so afraid of dying. He and his friends had put in motion the campaign to save his life. Now he was sure that death would have been easier, and much less painful.

He pushed himself up on his remaining three legs, mindful of the missing ribs and the bandage covering the latest “bacon removal”.

Charlotte had done her job well, maybe just a little too well. A pig as special as he is, you don’t eat all at one time.