Life was very tough for Yasmin. She was pregnant, and the term was extremely uncomfortable. As well as carrying
eight small creatures in her belly, days went slowly in the sty, and physical discomfort was constantly met with
mindless boredom. Her trotters became sore, so heavy was her body. Yasmin simply wanted these creatures out of
her.
She thought about the piglets, about what lives they would experience. At least Yasmin had had the chance to be
a human for all those years, seeing and feeling as humans do. Her children would see no such luxury, and would
be mindless animals destined for human dinnerplates. Yasmin resented those who had remained human, her family,
her rich friends who had avoided selection. But there was little she could do. As far as society was concerned,
Yasmin was nothing but a pig.
Finally, Yasmin's first pregnancy came to an end. She gave birth to seven healthy piglets, with one stillborn.
After being tended to, Yasmin's litter was left to suck on her sore teets. The relief was overwhelming, but
Yasmin's resentment was more intense than ever. This was not how she expected to give birth.
Soon enough, the litter was taken from her. Yasmin had almost become attached to them, but not sufficiently to
cause a fuss. Now, all thoughts rested on tomorrow, when the she would be inspected again by the farmhands.
Based on Yasmin's condition and the quality of the piglets, they would decide whether Yasmin would be
impregnated again, or see reprieve at the slaughterhouse.