I have been thinking about pork, the meat of an animal that will eat anything. I have been craving such a meat, but for me to be able to eat it in any quantity the animal must be dead, and it’s when the animal is dead that eating it no longer appeals to me. I guess winter is not the time for eating living things but for visiting the dead. Yesterday I called my grandpa to wish him a happy birthday. He said that he is 900 years old. Recently he saw my grandma, who is dead, in his bed. Before she died, she warned him that she would come back to scare him, but because she had warned him, he said, he wasn’t scared when he saw her in his bed. In two years, I will be 4000 years older than I am now, my grandpa said. Quinoa, millet, rice, amaranth are the grains I eat instead of the living meat. Grains aren’t dead I guess, but sometimes waiting looks like dead.