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 the mistakes in this short text, which I wrote as an exercise.
When Paul saw his father coming home with a frown on his face, he realised something bad had happened. He murmured a greeting and sat at the table. Joan, his mother served him a dinner, staring at him, expecting an explanation, but he avoided her eyes. Paul looked up from his book and glanced at him, but his father's eyes stared empty at the white tablecloth. He tore a piece of bread and chewed it with his soup. Joan, her arms crossed across her chest, stood by the sink watching him until their eyes met. He stopped chewing and glared at her, but she did not move. Finally, he dropped a spoon into the bowl. "It was an accident. I hit a man," he said. Paul looked up again from his book. His father's face was covered in sweat. "Did you kill him?" Joan asked and came near the table. "No. An idiot was lucky. He was staring at his iPhone and had earphones on his head. How can you be so careless and cross the street without looking where you are going? I'll never understand these young people. This is the second time this year I almost killed someone because of their iPhone. You can't drive a cab anymore as a man because of them. I have to find another job before it's too late."
Paul turned his attention to the book but could not concentrate on it. He shuddered when he thought what had happened to that young man, and the pain he suffered. He felt for his father, knowing how much he worked and how much he sacrificed for the family.
When Paul saw his father coming home with a frown on his face, he realised something bad had happened. He murmured a greeting and sat at the table. Joan, his mother served him a dinner, staring at him, expecting an explanation, but he avoided her eyes. Paul looked up from his book and glanced at him, but his father's eyes stared empty at the white tablecloth. He tore a piece of bread and chewed it with his soup. Joan, her arms crossed across her chest, stood by the sink watching him until their eyes met. He stopped chewing and glared at her, but she did not move. Finally, he dropped a spoon into the bowl. "It was an accident. I hit a man," he said. Paul looked up again from his book. His father's face was covered in sweat. "Did you kill him?" Joan asked and came near the table. "No. An idiot was lucky. He was staring at his iPhone and had earphones on his head. How can you be so careless and cross the street without looking where you are going? I'll never understand these young people. This is the second time this year I almost killed someone because of their iPhone. You can't drive a cab anymore as a man because of them. I have to find another job before it's too late."
Paul turned his attention to the book but could not concentrate on it. He shuddered when he thought what had happened to that young man, and the pain he suffered. He felt for his father, knowing how much he worked and how much he sacrificed for the family.