Through the streets of Sheffield again drifts the hoarse hollering of Mrs. Reilly. Her snotty kids sulk about, littering the neighbourhood with gum wrappers. Mr. Reilly can also be heard shouting under his braying wife. Out on the kerb, rubbish has spilt from the bin to the pavement. An empty tin of Flighty Dog pet food glistens in the midafternoon haze.
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