Another Carrot Ranch Literary Community 99-word challenge. Something about a carried wife. As usual, 99 words, no more, no less.

Sometimes it’s not about being carried across the threshold.

Moving hogs across a small open space. She feinted right. I followed. She ran left around me. My husband, already distraught, started screaming at me. For once. I stood my ground, stared at him. He took the few steps that divided us, picked me up, and started carrying me somewhere. I had no idea what he intended. Startled and scared, I bit his ear. He put me down, as I’d hoped, took a couple of steps back, wound up, and punched me in the face, a glancing blow since I was turning away. We never worked hogs together again.

Hogs are really clever, especially when they’re thwarding our wishes. These are actually my grandfather’s Hampshire piglets. We had long, white Landrace sows.