I was ten, my brother eight, and together we thought we’d struck gold. Forget lemonade — we were selling Oros Cordial, proudly renamed Fanta Orange, fizzed up with soda water like it was the most exclusive drink in town.
That little stand turned our street into something bigger. We called it Amazon Road, and soon it wasn’t just a place to sell drinks — it was a legend. Neighbors came not only for the orange fizz but for the laughter, the sticky cups, and the sense that something special was happening right there on the pavement.
To anyone else, it was just a quiet road. To us, it was the birthplace of our first empire, a place where childhood imagination transformed cordial into “Fanta Orange” and a simple street into Amazon Road, forever etched in our summer stories.