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Romping together on the grass. The sun above.
The afternoon. But the Pig was sad. The dog noticed.
I have to tell you something -said the Pig. I will not be with you anymore.
Why? Don't you love me? Aren't you happy with me? -agitatedly answered the Dog.
I adore you. We are Brothers -answered the Pig. But the men. They are coming for me.
What do they want from you? - asked the Dog.
I prefer not to tell you. It is too sad.
I am very afraid - said the Dog.
Do not worry for yourself. You are man's best friend. They even write poems about you -said the Pig.
And not for you? -asked the Dog, not understanding.
Not for me - said the Pig.
But we are of the same blood - cried the Dog-, we have played together, we are equals … you see the world just like me … your heart is like mine - and he anxiously added-: so then, what are you to them?
A flock of happy birds passed across the high sky, filling with their song the far blue mountain range and the field.
There was a dense silence and the pig's voice answered, with a drowned sob,
with his snout sunken in the grass:
Story by The Poet of the Voiceless, Ángel Padilla