Roger Noons
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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