‘Don’t want to,’ Masie said.

She pushed away the spoon, which smelt as bad as what it could taste like, and coughed again. Where was the banana medicine her mum used to give when she was ill. This tasted bitter and sweet at the same time and didn’t help in the least.

‘What if you can have a fruit pastel straight afterwards.’

Masie shook her head, but the packet on the side was singing to her. What if the pastel was purple, or even better red. Maybe she could make a bargain with her mummy.

‘If I take my medicine, can I have three pastels instead?’

‘Okay, but one whole spoon.’

She pinched her nose, closed her eyes and opened her mouth. The horrible smell wouldn’t quit. She tried not to gag, but her reflexes were too strong. The cough mixture lined her throat and made the cough worse, not better.

Her mummy handed over the three fruit pastels and they were swallowed all at once. Anything to get rid of the taste now in her mouth. The first sweet was gone in seconds, but the next two were eaten slowly.

She had an idea, that her mummy would have to buy more fruit pastels.

Published by writerravenclaw

I am a fifty something mother of two grown up children, and one beautiful grandchild. I have been married for nearly thirty-four years. My first book was published ten years ago. I wrote my book Sticks and Stones because of my experience of being bullied at school.

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