We have a problem. A pig problem.
They are wild and visit our yard day and night. They forage and feed themselves and offspring. Maybe, they think they live here, and we’re the intruders.
They are provocative.
They come close enough to excite the dogs but stay far enough to frustrate them.
They remind me of some people.
They show up in my life and opine. They raid my mind and feed the anxiety. Perhaps, they think they know what I need and are doing me a favor.
After they, those pigs and people, leave, though, I see only a mess. A tumble of dirt and leaves in the yard or a jumble of emotions inside me.
Must I learn how to accept them?
For The Daily Post’s daily prompt, Delivery.