Wednesday, 3 December 2014

the pig

Far away, the setting sun warmed the farm in a dusky pink glow, as Ley the pig settled in for the night. It had been a very long day. The owner’s name was Rosie Johnson. She was walking down the farm when she saw the pig from the distance. It had a rosy pink snout, that twitched as he sniffed looking for scraps near by. Rosie gazed at Ley’s small eyes. They were shimmering in the bright night sky. They were sharp and inquisitive. Rosie had patches of coarse hair stuck out from his face in tufts. When Rosie stared at Ley she noticed that he was nosy by nature, always wanting to know what was going on around him.
For nearly one hundred years, the farm was had been nestled on the side of hill
next to the babbling creek.it was not often
that the farm was quiegtL
tidy packed, bales of hay rested in a neat array.


the water tank stood to attention like three rotund.


rolling hills caught  the long shadows of the late afternoon sun.


the old barn  was home-comforting, cosy and always busy with its
inhabitant


as rosy josen was in the water he was Worried concentration made the pig to frown in ear


worried concentration made the pig to frown in earnest.


his hooves tried to tread the water, but he could hardly stay afloat


Turquoise water lapped at his snout.

panic was setting in as he appeared unable close the gap to land

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