There was a strong tinge in the sky tonight. The clouds blushed red, as the sun slowly sunk below the horizon with a simmering glug glug glug.
Boys on the train were imitating the sound of pigs. "Oink oink oink!" they went, keeping bad time with each other, the oinks overlapping and rendered syncopated, until one of the boys interjected and changed course. "This is the olden days." He began a solitary, "Oi oi oi..."
But before long another boy announced, "This is the pig!" Oinks were resumed.
"Oink oink oink..."
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