Daddy hit the pug with a hammer. The poor animal squealed something horrible. I was just a little kid and I hadn’t seen anything so rough before. I started crying and begging him to stop. He had a grim expression, and he hit the pig with the hammer again, and again. There was blood everwhere. The obvious lesson is that pigs are good and not pets, and it’s a father’s duty to make his child understand his. But I think Daddy also wanted me to understand that life is violent and arbitrary and unfair - that it’s not easy, like a child might think, especially a child like me, living in a paradise, coddled by Mother and by Annie, no worries, always having a ball. He beat that pig to death with a hammer in our backyard and he made me watch.
Rachel Kushner, Telex From Cuba