Original Story Based on Meat is Murder

Here is the beginning. I hope you like it.
The Act of Killing

The killings always happened in bright sunlight. The smell of burning hair brings the first killings straight back to me, and I am five again, thirsty in the hot sun – all of us at break time queuing at the well. No running water. Just down the hill, in a hollow, squatted an open shell of a building– whitewashed walls splashed with blood.

Once a month, the snuffling pigs ambled up the path, to the pen. They gathered nonchalantly. Then the show started. First, a hook like a giant question mark was stabbed through a snout. The disbelieving pig was pulled, squealing in shock, and just as suddenly, three shirtless men lifted it. The hook fitted onto a rail above head height. Below, a bucket, for the blood. The screaming pig hung from its snout, legs kicking at the empty air.