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 my sentences? I wrote this text just as an exercise. "Off-licence" is BrE for "liquor store" in AmE.
David had been having a drinking problem since he had gone to university, What began as occasional drinking at parties, soon turned into alcohol abuse. David, who was teetotaller at first, didn't wish to stand out from his fellow students and drank just a pint or two, believing he would draw the line at that. But after a while, beer was replaced by spirits like whisky and vodka and David was hooked. With his student loan he couldn't afford to buy alcohol at off-licence as often as he wished, so he used to buy smuggled bottles of alcohol from the East Europe. He didn't care from where it had come; the most important was that it found its way into his mouth and relieved his anxiety, at least for a few hours. He spent more time drunk than sober, and even sometimes went to his lectures intoxicated. On one occasion, the police arrested him when they found him lying in the street, in the pool of his own urine. He avoided to see himself in the mirror because what he saw disgusted him. He had become overweight, dishevelled and smelly. When he was on the bus, some passengers recoiled when he sat beside them.
He was hurtling towards the abyss, and nothing and nobody could stop his fall. Then one morning someone knocked hard on his door. David had been drinking the previous night and wished to sleep himself sober, but the banging didn't stop, and he got up and shuffled to the door, his mind still in a haze. He was looking at four men, who were glaring at him. Without saying a word, they grabbed him by his arms and legs and carried him from the third floor of the hall of residence downstairs. David wanted to shout "Kidnapping, call the police!" but his mouth was seized up. They carried him to the street where a white truck stood parked. The men opened the back door, shoved him inside and slammed it. He lay on the bare floor and heard the truck roar to life. David was too weak to go up and went on lying, looking up at the sky in the narrow windows. If he had been sober, he would have started to panic and scream, but the alcohol had dulled his feelings. Then he smelt the pungent smell of sheep, which brought him back to his senses. This was the smell he had grown up with, the smell of his sheep, which he had tended since his childhood. He sat up and crossed his legs, massaging his temples. The blurred picture of the four angry men who bundled him into the truck slowly resolved into his father and his three brothers, and he blushed with shame. But he was too exhausted to think about the future and drifted into sleep again.
David woke up the crowing of a cock and barking of a dog. His eyes scanned the room in which he had spent almost two decades of his life. Through the open window he heard buzzing of insects in his orchard. The cherries outside his windows were in full bloom. His heart swelled with the sounds, scents and feelings. The door quietly opened and his mother's dark eyes glittered at him. She carried a tray with his breakfast. "Welcome home, son," she put the tray on the bedside table and kissed him on the his forehead.
THE END
David had been having a drinking problem since he had gone to university, What began as occasional drinking at parties, soon turned into alcohol abuse. David, who was teetotaller at first, didn't wish to stand out from his fellow students and drank just a pint or two, believing he would draw the line at that. But after a while, beer was replaced by spirits like whisky and vodka and David was hooked. With his student loan he couldn't afford to buy alcohol at off-licence as often as he wished, so he used to buy smuggled bottles of alcohol from the East Europe. He didn't care from where it had come; the most important was that it found its way into his mouth and relieved his anxiety, at least for a few hours. He spent more time drunk than sober, and even sometimes went to his lectures intoxicated. On one occasion, the police arrested him when they found him lying in the street, in the pool of his own urine. He avoided to see himself in the mirror because what he saw disgusted him. He had become overweight, dishevelled and smelly. When he was on the bus, some passengers recoiled when he sat beside them.
He was hurtling towards the abyss, and nothing and nobody could stop his fall. Then one morning someone knocked hard on his door. David had been drinking the previous night and wished to sleep himself sober, but the banging didn't stop, and he got up and shuffled to the door, his mind still in a haze. He was looking at four men, who were glaring at him. Without saying a word, they grabbed him by his arms and legs and carried him from the third floor of the hall of residence downstairs. David wanted to shout "Kidnapping, call the police!" but his mouth was seized up. They carried him to the street where a white truck stood parked. The men opened the back door, shoved him inside and slammed it. He lay on the bare floor and heard the truck roar to life. David was too weak to go up and went on lying, looking up at the sky in the narrow windows. If he had been sober, he would have started to panic and scream, but the alcohol had dulled his feelings. Then he smelt the pungent smell of sheep, which brought him back to his senses. This was the smell he had grown up with, the smell of his sheep, which he had tended since his childhood. He sat up and crossed his legs, massaging his temples. The blurred picture of the four angry men who bundled him into the truck slowly resolved into his father and his three brothers, and he blushed with shame. But he was too exhausted to think about the future and drifted into sleep again.
David woke up the crowing of a cock and barking of a dog. His eyes scanned the room in which he had spent almost two decades of his life. Through the open window he heard buzzing of insects in his orchard. The cherries outside his windows were in full bloom. His heart swelled with the sounds, scents and feelings. The door quietly opened and his mother's dark eyes glittered at him. She carried a tray with his breakfast. "Welcome home, son," she put the tray on the bedside table and kissed him on the his forehead.
THE END
