"Where are the pigs, Joseph?" Gone," said Joseph. "I'll be getting some new piglets next week."The two women looked upset, but Joseph said nothing and...waited on Angela. He saw light dawn in her eyes."Gone to slaughter?" she asked."Yes, they'd reached ideal weight." Don't you find it hard to do that? D'you miss them?" No, don't forget I send pigs to the abattoir twice a year. You can't have pork without killing pigs, Greta."To change the subject, Angela broke in with an excited finger pointing. We were both taking guitar lessons from the same teacher, but I was a kid, and he was already retired. I was too young to know anything about sex, but I could tell that Uncle George thought I was pretty. I was curious about why an adult was taking music lessons, and I wanted to see what his life was like, so I friended him on Facebook.Through the years I was aware that Uncle George read my posts and was keeping up with my life. In middle school I had a lot of feelings of inferiority and a lot. More

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