The ambiguous little miss piggy
Published on
Story by
nicolas baker
Translation by:
clea caulcutt
Paris, France, summer 2006
Huddled deep in the busy district of Saint Michel, a pig revolved on a spit above the hot coal in the rue de la Huchette. Reminiscent of bad horror movies, the pig’s head was pierced with an iron bar. The juice was dripping on the hot coal and it looked so barbarous. The almost sweet smell of cooked meat made me rather dizzy. Then suddenly everything changed. Disgust became desire. And too bad for the little piggy - I really needed to give it a try.
Nicolas Baker, 23 years old, journalist (Lyon)
Story by
Translated from Cochonnerie