He was so lonely. That was what the pig always thought of and how he always felt. Utter loneliness and unavoidable solitude. It was not his fault though, he thought to himself. It was not anybody's fault. It was what it was. He was born as ugly as a sin; his face was deformed, and his hair was all dishevelled and matty. He was unpleasant to look at, so no one had ever looked at him for more than two seconds. When people at his village started expressing their dissatisfaction with him being around and his own family asked him to leave because he was nothing but a social and aesthetic burden on their shoulders, he started his hiding journey. It was not their fault, he thought. They did not deserve to see something as ugly as his face, and they would not have to anymore. Dedicated to hide, out of consideration for their feelings, he would wander around in the jungles till the day he dies. He would never allow himself to be trapped in self-pity nor self-loathing, but he always craved having a friend. He always listened from a distance to others talking and sharing and crying together. He wanted that for himself, and he always thought that he deserved it. One day, as he was walking around, he heard a crying sound. He kept looking for the source till he found a bird created with a bright array of colours and a pretty face. His face was so gracefull and his sadness felt so holy. He carefully approached the little bird, and slowly got out of his hiding. He was firm and determined to help the little beautiful thing, but he did not know if he would dare to show his face. He did not have any other choice, he thought. Calmly, in spite of how frightened he was, he asked the bird if everything was okay. To his surprise, the bird did not seem flustered or scared to see him as he weeping answered: "NO OBVIOUSLY NOTHING IS FINE". Our little pig was happy and relieved to have been able to talk to anyone at all. But, he was so sad for the weeping bird. "What seems to be the problem, little guy?", he attentively asked the bird. "Everything is wrong. I have never had any luck with anything at all. God has created me so I am in pain as He watches and rejoices. You see, I was created so gracefully and was designed to be a piece of art, but I was never able to see my own reflection. He has given me eyes so beautiful but ones that...