21
Pigs in Paradise
Mel walked into the barn. As his eyes adjusted to the soft light, he moved to where the ravens were perched, resting in the rafters above him. “Hello,” he called. “Are you there, fellows? I wish to speak with you.”
“What?” Dave said and dropped to a lower corner beam not far from Mel’s head.
“It has come to my attention that we have in our midst an artist, possibly a great artist, one who is both shy and humble, but who nevertheless deserves an audience for his work.”
Ezekiel fell to the corner beam next to Dave. “You’ll find no bird droppings here.” He and Dave looked at each other, puzzled.
“In the pursuit of perfection, it is inevitable that little balls of paint will form and fall. However, unlike animal waste, it is not a sin.”
“Well, get a load of that will
