Saturday, October 19, 2013

365 Poems: Pig in a poke. Or a purse.

Friends,  I have a  fair imagination but I never could have made this up. Helping the little girls wash their hands after using the restroom at Easton mall in Columbus,  a strange squealing sound got our attention. On the way out,  we spied the source.
A young woman was holding a Vera Bradley bag ... and inside the bag was a very small pig.
Since this is probably the only time in my entire life I could utter this sentence,  I said, 'Excuse me, is that a pig in a Vera Bradley bag?'
Because it was. A potbelly piglet she had bought the night before at a farmers festival. 'It won't get very big,'  she said as she wiped its rear end. 'And this is an old bag.'

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