Just a Listen, Then All Done

Pia the piglet woke up early, before the sun was fully awake. Today was her doctor visit, and her tummy already felt a little jumpy. She picked her softest blanket off her bed, the one with the tiny stars, and held it close. She carried it all the way to breakfast, not wanting to let it go.

Papa walked with her down the sunny street, her hoof tucked inside his hand. "We'll go together," he said. "The whole time." Pia nodded, but the jumpy feeling stayed. In the waiting room, she sat close to Papa and watched the clock's slow hands.

In the small white room, the doctor smiled and picked up a round metal disc on a long string. It hung there, shiny and strange, like a little cold moon.