Here’s the starter for a round robin story. Just jump right in and add a bit, or more than a bit, and we’ll see what sort of fun story we come up with! – She Wolf
I’m sure you’ve heard the old saying, “And pigs might fly”, which people say when they mean, “Well, that’s impossible!” Well, this pig did fly, so it clearly wasn’t as impossible as those pessimists thought…
Once upon a time, there was a flying pig. He lived on a small farm with a farmer, his wife and their young and growing family. The pig liked being able to fly; it meant that he could get the juicy apples still growing on the trees instead of the old rotten ones on the ground underneath the tree, and the sweet corn growing on the other side of the fence, which was no barrier for him. As a result, he was a fine, fat pig instead of rather scrawny like the other pigs from his litter.
The farmer liked the fact that he was a fine, fat pig, but was rather disgruntled by the fact that the pig was always getting into the best apples and corn and so forth when his young and growing family wanted to eat the same apples and corn. And he had no idea what a novelty the flying pig was, or he might not have decided, one fine autumn day well into butchering season, that it was time to have the pig feed his family instead of his family feeding the pig.
The farmer looked at the pig, who was currently circling a tree in the orchard, hunting for an overlooked apple, and had a vision of bacon, and ham, and spare ribs. Keeping an eye on the pig, he went to the shed for something to catch him with and then he slowly walked towards the pig, hiding a rope behind his back.
But the pig, with the sixth sense that hunted creatures sometimes have, saw the farmer coming toward him with the visions of sausage and pigs’ trotters in his eyes and the pig was uneasy, although the pig really didn’t know what the man intended to do.
The man got close enough to the pig to try and throw the rope around his neck, but the rope tangled in the branches of the tree and he missed. The startled pig squealed and flew wildly into the tree, knocking down the last few apples on the farmer’s head, and then flapped away, landing on the far side of the orchard fence.
The farmer grumbled a few things he wouldn’t want his children to hear, and came after the pig again. The pig could clearly see that the farmer was angry, and decided to stay away from him.
After an hour of playing chase around the farmyard, the farmer was furious. He grabbed a board and started swinging wildly at the pig. One swing connected with the pig’s well-padded posterior, and the pig, offended, decided he had had enough.
He squealed and flew away, across the farmyard, over the orchard, beyond the cornfield and into the forest…
The Taverna 
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October 24, 2008 at 12:11 am
Lori
The pig cruised through the forest for quite a while until he heard something rather unusual. He soared through the canopy of the forest until he came to a clearing. He saw a group of women sitting around a roaring bonfire. They were singing, rather loudly, and not in harmony.
Intrigued by this unusual activity, the pig swung in low to take a closer look
October 28, 2008 at 2:28 am
pearlz
As he came closer he noticed that their voices whilst not in harmony with each other were sweet individually if he just picked one to focus on.
He noticed one especially interesting one, whose face was perplexed by the lack of unison in the voices. She was short and appeared to be wearing a matching rainbow socks and jumper. She held a twig in her hand which she waved with zest.
“Ladies, ladies, you know we really have to find the harmonies. It really won’t do, let’s go again, on second thoughts let me sing you the parts”
She sang each part individually. The Pig was astounded. Yes, it was a song with potential.
The Pig couldn’t help himself he started to accompany the rainbow socked lady …
October 28, 2008 at 3:30 am
Lori
“Excuse, ma’am…” stammered the little pig, “but I have never heard anyone sing so beautifully”.
“Thank you, my little friend. But it wasn’t always that way. For, you seek, I was not born a human being. I was born a…….”
October 28, 2008 at 2:46 pm
shewolfy728
“Quetzlecoatl, a rainbow flying feathered snake. Alas, an enchantment has placed me in this earthbound form,” she sighed, with tears in her eyes. “Now all I have left is a voice and a song.”
The pig’s wings drooped. To lose one’s wings! What a terrible tragedy!
October 28, 2008 at 3:18 pm
Lori
“Oh, I am so sorry…….”
“Well, as bad as that may be, I will try to make lemonade out of the lemons, so they say in the human world. I want to form a choir. I want to gather all the magical beings of the forest and creat a heavenly sound that will make the trees shake and stars dance.”
“Oh, how wonderful!”
“But,” the Quetzl-woman lowered her voice, “we must be very careful because……..”
October 28, 2008 at 11:44 pm
June
This song has some shape shifting qualities I was told by the most ancient Quetlecoatl of all, but you can never be sure what you end up as.
Why you could become a tree, the ocean a human, and end up that way for centuries.
The best case scenario though is that you return to your original form, but it has to be a song that…..
October 29, 2008 at 2:13 pm
shewolfy728
Plucks at the heartstrings of the entire world. It must be so beautiful, so full of hope and love, that even the earth itself trembles and the moon weeps for joy in the night sky.”
The pig looked thoughtful. Such a song was surely not going to be easy to create and perform.
“Music and words,” he said, “is that all you have to work with, to create this piece of magic that will rock the foundations of the world?”
October 29, 2008 at 3:00 pm
Lori
“Yes, one word, one graceful phrase, is all that is needed to start us.”
The little pig twitched his wings and thought for a moment.”
“Okay, how about this….’When the landscapes whisper as we tread our lonely roads’…..”
Quetzl-woman cocked her head. She closed her eyes and her face looked as if she were seeing that lonely road and hearing the whispers of the land.”
“Yes, yes that will do….” Then she started to hum, a deep resonating hum from deep within her. “The Key of G…. that is the key in which the whole universe sings.”
Then she said……
October 29, 2008 at 8:12 pm
kvwordsmith
WHO…………………. (a long, strong, whole shaped note, sung from deep within Quetzl-woman’s being)
WHO
would think of a pig with wings?
WHO
would think of a pig that sings?
WHO
would think of dreamtime things?
It must be the Soul Food Sisters!
WHO
carries a shapeshifting were pen,
WHO
runs with the wolves of Wyoming?
WHO
stomps around in the Lemurian Outback?
It must be the Soul Food Sisters!
(Next verse…take it away, someone)!
October 30, 2008 at 9:28 am
imogen88
The Soul Food Sisters
Are the best,
Creative Adventurers!
We take our wings,
from Enchanteur’s magic bag
and fly with
our magical pig…
October 31, 2008 at 8:45 pm
Elizabeth Westmark
“Ahem,” the winged pig coughed gently, “um, excuse me, ladies.”
They stopped singing and looked down at their new friend. “Well, I hate to mention it, but if we’re going to compose a song that plucks at the heartstrings of the Entire World, . . . well, do we have to include Farmers, too?”
The pig continued. “I mean, I know all about the legends that say “Never wrestle with a Farmer. You will get dirty and the Farmer will enjoy it. Or that other one,” and here the pig looked meaningfully up at the ladies, “Never try to teach a Farmer to sing. You will fail, and the Farmer will become annoyed.”
November 1, 2008 at 3:22 am
cronelogical
But the flying pig’s farmer
heard the song
and invited the pig to come home
for he loved to listen
and invited a throng
of visitors, reporters, and media folk
to come to the show
and so for a small fee
the farmer grew wealthy
the piggy was safe
and all was forgiven
(Fran who is home from tripping)
November 2, 2008 at 1:07 am
Kerry
He still missed eating bacon for breakfast, so he went to the Be-A-Barista School & learned how to mark and enjoy a nice macchiato instead…
November 6, 2008 at 1:24 am
Beth
and learned, as we fellow travelers are learning, that growth sometimes means letting go of an old backpack full of the rocks we have collected along the way, finding that there are tastier treats in life than bacon, learning the gift of reinvention, and that it’s never too late to have a happy childhood!
November 6, 2008 at 1:54 pm
Lori
“That’s it!”, cried the Quetzal-woman. “By the Muse, you’ve hit on the key to a happy life.”
And with that she picked up her harp and began to sing….