Pig

Masayoshi Nishiyama

　A grove was at the point of my eyes. A whitish thing of an ellipse form was hanging down from the third tree from my side of the woods. When I approached, it was a pig.
　A bedroom town in Tokyo. The housing development spread out in the south side, and the residence of a single-family house spread out in the north side. A straight road was between just them, and there was a park which is a size of about two for ground of amateur baseball.
　I came to here on business. It was the first visit. There was a bench with a table. I flung an attache case, and sat down. The mark of the handle was stuck to my palm.
　I had a smoke, and turned my eyes in the direction which the sun sets in. Then, I did because I stood up.
　The pig was hanging itself.
　Although I was confused, to be sure, it was a pig. Besides, the situation was clearly different from it which is hanging down from the butcher. First of all, that pig was alive. It was a white and beautiful pig.
　It seemed to be a male, and to be still young. Our eyes met. It seemed that he was laughing.
　"Hey, What are you doing in such a place?"
　I tried to shake it. Then, he took out the gums and said "Hi my brother, don't you try to do like me?". For some reason, that pig could speak a language.
　A soccer ball has rolled over here. A young mother ran in pursuit of it here. A smell of woman drifted. "Isn't she nice?" That pig said, and winked.
　"More than such a thing, aren't you painful?"
　"Yes, I am."
　When I thought that the neck of a pig would be where, he taught "It's here". However, his forelimb was too short and I did not understand it well where he pointed at.
　A woman who took a dog came from a narrow path over there. She looked suspiciously at me, and went past at a quick pace. The dog barked.

(translated by author himself)
〈May〜July 2006 The Mailing list session〉