Memoir of a little piece of bacon, by dingo
Posted on: November 15, 2008, at 09:06:03pm

If I were not a little piece of bacon in a pan, sizzling to death, life flashing before my eyes, screaming, you would understand. But I am a little piece of bacon.

My life was on the back of a pig. The days where hot, wet, and dirty. But still, it’s better than what was to come.

It all started when the pig began to move. That was strange for the pig had not moved in years. After this abnormal behavior there was a silence, it felt as if it were an eternity. Just when I thought life had gone back to normal a shiny thin thing penetrated my home. It was cold, and it tore me from the pig. I was scared. If you were a little piece of bacon detached from your beloved pig you’d be frightened too.

I was placed on some kind of floor, except it was moving. I seemed to be surrounded by other little pieces of bacon. They too appeared to be confused about the current situation. For none of us could have ever experienced anything such as this.

We were packed together in groups of ten. It was quite awkward being so close to each other. I saw more packets of bacon that were bounded around us. We must have been transported somewhere far away. I couldn’t stand all the moving. After we stopped we were taken out, one by one, and sorted on some cold shelf. I saw other little pieces of bacon that weren’t from my pig, and other various parts from other pigs.

After awhile we were picked up and thrown into a giant basket. There were other things that I was not familiar. It moved us around and I saw stuff on shelves. I hated all the moving. When all the moving seized I was placed in a box of some sort, that was cold and dark. There were several occasions of light, where things were taken out of the box. Sometimes the things came back.

One day, we were taken from the box. We were torn from each other and I heard screaming. When it was my turn to be taken away I was so scared I couldn’t move. I could see my fellow bacon. It set me next to the others, and my body started hissing.

One would think that I didn’t have feelings. But I do have feelings. You just can’t understand the feelings of a little piece of bacon. Shame on you. Shame on you, indeed.