Bassim
VIP Member
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2008
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Bosnian
- Home Country
- Bosnia Herzegovina
- Current Location
- Sweden
Would you please correct my mistakes in this short text? I have written it just as an exercise.
Michael lay in bed with a high fever raging through his body. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, losing control of his mind. Phantasmagorical scenes rolled in his head. Disfigured and distorted faces grinned at him, baring their ugly teeth. Their large black eyes radiated pure evil as if they were part of the cancer that was eating at his body. Suddenly, among all that chaos, he saw himself cycling in the countryside, with Maria sitting on the luggage carrier. He was pedalling furiously, enjoying the speed and the breeze on his face. She held him around his waist, shouting at him to slow down, but her fear only made him more excited, and he pushed the pedals harder. He savoured the pressure of her fingers on his skin, the warmth of her breath behind his ears. and the panic in her voice. Maria was the only woman he ever caressed and kissed. She made a man of him.
The road was empty and straight, passing through the fields of grain, which moved like waves in the wind. A heard of cows in a pasture gazed at them silently, chewing grass. A family of deer ran back into the woods, startled by the young couple. Michael fought desperately to keep this beautiful scene in his mind, to look at Maria's flushed face and her flowing blond hair, but scene was disappearing, fading out as if at the end of a film.
"Maria!" he shouted, but nothing came out of darkness. He thought he must have been dead, when the voice called him, "Michael, are you all right?" He opened his eyes, hoping to see Maria's deep blue eyes but instead saw a young nurse, bent above him, stroking his forehead. Her cold slender fingers felt like a balm on his burning body.
Maria!" he said.
"My name is Bea," the nurse said. Yesterday, when we talked you promised to remember my name, but you've already forgotten it. Do you want some water?"
Michael groaned. He could not remember what happened to Maria. Did she died years ago, or did they separate before? When did that ride happen? Fifty, sixty years ago?
The nurse helped him to sit upright and gave him a glass of tepid water. He felt the liquid soothing his throat, but he did not care. He only wished to see Maria again, in a dream or a flash of memory before he would sink into the fathomless darkness.
THE END
Michael lay in bed with a high fever raging through his body. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, losing control of his mind. Phantasmagorical scenes rolled in his head. Disfigured and distorted faces grinned at him, baring their ugly teeth. Their large black eyes radiated pure evil as if they were part of the cancer that was eating at his body. Suddenly, among all that chaos, he saw himself cycling in the countryside, with Maria sitting on the luggage carrier. He was pedalling furiously, enjoying the speed and the breeze on his face. She held him around his waist, shouting at him to slow down, but her fear only made him more excited, and he pushed the pedals harder. He savoured the pressure of her fingers on his skin, the warmth of her breath behind his ears. and the panic in her voice. Maria was the only woman he ever caressed and kissed. She made a man of him.
The road was empty and straight, passing through the fields of grain, which moved like waves in the wind. A heard of cows in a pasture gazed at them silently, chewing grass. A family of deer ran back into the woods, startled by the young couple. Michael fought desperately to keep this beautiful scene in his mind, to look at Maria's flushed face and her flowing blond hair, but scene was disappearing, fading out as if at the end of a film.
"Maria!" he shouted, but nothing came out of darkness. He thought he must have been dead, when the voice called him, "Michael, are you all right?" He opened his eyes, hoping to see Maria's deep blue eyes but instead saw a young nurse, bent above him, stroking his forehead. Her cold slender fingers felt like a balm on his burning body.
Maria!" he said.
"My name is Bea," the nurse said. Yesterday, when we talked you promised to remember my name, but you've already forgotten it. Do you want some water?"
Michael groaned. He could not remember what happened to Maria. Did she died years ago, or did they separate before? When did that ride happen? Fifty, sixty years ago?
The nurse helped him to sit upright and gave him a glass of tepid water. He felt the liquid soothing his throat, but he did not care. He only wished to see Maria again, in a dream or a flash of memory before he would sink into the fathomless darkness.
THE END