GilThis is the second part of my short story Professor Cosma. Please, would you take a look at it and correct my mistakes.
After his wife’s death, professor Cosma had established a fixed routine in his life. Following breakfast, he would take a long stroll along the seafront and sit on a bench for some time. He would
inhaledeeply inhale the sea air, and fill his lungs with freshness and fragrance, which invigorated his mind and body. The sea would always infuse him with calmness: waves rippled gently and peacefully, passenger boats and dazzling white yachts glided on the horizon, while seagulls screeched and hovered above the water and the nearby cliffs. There were also groups of merry tourists taking photographs of each other and the luxurious cruisers bobbing in a marina as a memento of their happy holiday. Everything was sparkling and shining and reminded professor Cosma of how the world could be the most beautiful place to live, if not for some evil human beings who were greedy of powerand wanted to control theothers at any price.
In those moments, he would feel a twinge of nostalgia. His mind would wander back
into the past and he would remember his childhood in a little village in between the hills where life was not easy but, at the same time, it was simple and beautiful. At that timeHe used to walk more than an hour to his school and hadoften had problems with his shoes, which always took in water and snow, and which would not be replaced until they were almost irreparable. (How he laughed when many decades later he had bought his first Gore-Tex shoes and walked with them through thepools of water without a drop penetrating the sophisticatingsophisticated fabric). Children from the town had not only the advantage of being close to the school, but they could enjoy their winter and summer vacations fully, while he and other children from the village had to work and help their families with all kinds of chores. (This part, "...all kinds of chores", weakens the image you are trying to portray. You might want to try something like, "help their families to survive")
Their reward was the clean air, good food and much love from their parents. When he was playing outside, his mother would call out his name and wait for him with
thea slice of newly baked bread, still warm from the oven, and marmalade, made from their own plums. (What would he give to be able to taste that bread and marmalade today, to breathe that crisp air and drink that cool water from their own well). However, as he grew up, he knew he had to flee. The village was doomed to a slow death and beyond help.
To be continued.