It was a glorious day for September. Light fluffy clouds drifted across the wide blue sky and the gulls swooped gracefully over the sea. Sylvia stepped out with a light step and a sunny smile. A smile of anticipated pleasure. A nice herring for tea. Sylvia liked a nice herring. She set out boldly and confidently along the sea front towards the fishmongers but the pavement was full of mischief and tumbled her, hurting her shoulder. She went back to the house and told her sister all about it. Her sister listened with concern; they were neither of them young. ‘Did you get the herring?’ she said.
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