To the friends in his life, the persons of acquaintance, and the extended family of the fallen: several weeks ago, a young boy perished in the midst of incertitude and chaos. Piggy, his apparent alias, was someone who made a definite impact on our lives. He graced the earth with his intuition, his compassion, his civil-nature, and his will to create a better world for you, me, and just about everyone.
I remembered acquainting with Piggy over a decade ago in 1952. It was a time where we commemorated the rise of a new queen, Elizabeth II, it was a time where we still treasured the end of the horrendous world war, and it was a time before life twisted into dismay. I was outside on the field playing a game of football with my mates when, in the distance, bawls echoed the area with such intensity. Looking around, not a single soul cared to acknowledge the agonizing screams of terror. As a result, I sprinted over to my dismay: a pudgy boy was being harassed. Long story short, I bargained with the bullies to free Piggy from his terror; it was not mercy that drove me, it was compassion and hatred of suffering. This was a moment engrained into my memory indefinitely.
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Whenever we strolled through town, Piggy would always discuss some substantially clever topics; if i recall, one time he would elaborate about how to fabricate a sundial - very fascinating indeed. Whenever our teachers, throughout the years in primary school, assigned a terse summary of a chapter, he was the sole individual that composed an exquisite and insightful analysis of that chapter. Whenever my mum and dad questioned the electrifying potential within him, Piggy replied, “I’m only exploiting my talents, talents for the good of