a strong orange squash, mixed with lemonade
Harriet found out her bicycle was magical when freewheeling around a bend in Orchard Lane, she approached the Council’s rubbish lorry which was blocking the road. Open-mouthed, she clung to the hand grips. Her fuchsia pink two wheeler flew into the air. The bin men waved as she sailed over and landed safely at the junction with Parson’s Grove. She found she was outside number 42 and delved into her bag, but couldn’t remember whether the occupier took the Mirror or the Sun. Holding one paper in each hand she faced the lamp. It lit in favour of the former.
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