He was drinking local tea when he saw a familiar face approach him. William Sakamura came and sat down next to Garry. A pig farmer. Garry called for a waitress to bring them some Hawaiian tea. The waitress came and put the tea in front of William. William knew that Garry was a male witch.

Author's Note: My first story, I hope you like it? It was known as The Pig Farm, a large island a mile in length in the middle of the lake. What it had been originally had long since been replaced with local myth, the only hints at its origins were a ramshackle house towards the centre of the island which had long since been pillaged of anything interesting and a series of carved stone troughs scattered across the island - presumably once used to feed whatever animals did actually live there. Once a year the island played host to a local custom and the quaint little town was suddenly whipped into a frenzy. The Pig Farm Festival was not for everyone.

Moe Lester. Kylie has heard the stories of the feral pigs in the local swamp for most of her life and like the other folk in town had paid little attention to the tales. As a youngster, she had used the fringes of the swamp as a playground and now at twenty-one, she often camps in the swamp for days on end to paint and photograph the abundant wildlife. Sure, she has seen the disturbs ground makes by wild pigs searching for food yet aside from brief glimpses of them she has seen nothing extraordinary.

Every woman wants to feel attractive. There isn't a point in a woman's life from the moment she first realizes she's not a boy to the moment she's lowered into the ground that she doesn't want to feel desired. They want to be told with words and with actions.