Editorial Board

“Sorry, I forgot,” Roman mumbled, dropping the head into the bucked of ice water where its companion was already collecting an eerily frozen hue. Returning
to Tanya, Roman prepared the propane porch with which they singed the hide of the first pig, and proceeded to do the same to this one. Working
quickly, the girl and the boy scrubbed the hide clean of charred hair. The sun was setting, casting a gloomy dusk over the toiling pair.
By the time they finished pulling out the entrails and chopping the pig into pieces, it became completely dark. Days had become shorter
and shorter as winter matured. Tanya carried the chunks of meat to a tub located on the porch where the pigs could be reunited. She stumbled
twice along the way because she could not see in the murky light coming from the house. She could not believe it was night already.
Returning to the yard, she found herself alone. Roman had left without saying goodbye. Raising her hand automatically to fix her hair and check if it was because
she was so filthy, she stopped herself just in time before smearing her face with dirt. Tanya smiled ruefully at herself and turned away from where the
boy had stood. Sighing, she shrugged and climbed up the stairs to the porch. Turning to look out into the yard once more, she entered the house.
Two days later, at the Christmas party, Tatyana’s best friend asked, her round eyes bulging with curiosity,
“Did you really kill this pig?” They were dining on fried, boiled, roasted, and baked pork.
Tatyana nodded, impaled a piece of pork on her fork, brought it to her mouth, and bit into the meat, chewing with pleasure.
“I sure did,” she said.