Piglet

by Lottie Hazell

There were some things that you could not tell your friends. She knew that truths, once spoken, had the power to strip her of the life she had so carefully built, so smugly shared.

What could she say? What sentence would pierce him while leaving her intact? She had built her life so carefully around him. To say something, to do something, to feel something, would be to self-destruct.

She was going to waste, she feared, she knew, the life she had made spoiling around her, turning to rot.