Once A Loser, Always A Loser? OR Can Pigs Fly?

a pig hanging in the blue sky by a bunch of red balloons

Brazenly Richard appeared at my door. In jeans and t-shirt he looked out of place. He was to spend two years at Hillwood Boys Academy.

“Come in, Richard.”

Richard shuffled in, sat down, then defiantly, “I don‘t belong here! I‘m not like those rich guys. It‘s stupid!”

“The Judge must have felt you are worth rehabilitating or she wouldn’t have sent you.“

“Ha! I’m a loser, have been, always will be. You’ll rehab me when pigs fly!”

Chuckling, I said, “Richard, I am here for you. Anything you need, come to me. Together we will make those pigs fly.”




Written in response to CARROT RANCH Flash Fiction Challenge of August 26th — 99 words on When Pigs Fly.

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