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  1. VIP Member
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    #1

    When Eddie was a little boy

    Would you please correct the mistakes in this short text, which I wrote as an exercise.


    When Eddie was a little boy, he used to sit on the porch of his home and watch planes in the sky. In the daylight, they looked like large metallic birds leaving white streaks behind, and in the night, they blinked red, green and white. "Where are all those people flying to?" he wondered. He couldn't imagine that two decades later, he would sit in one of those metallic birds and fly towards a better future. As the plane ascended, he looked out the side window at the people and buildings that were becoming ever smaller and insignificant.

    A thought flashed in his mind that his own existence meant nothing in the universe. He was less important than a speck of dust. He felt the fear rising in the pit of his stomach, and he took out of his pocket a scarf, which his mother had given to him before he left the home. She had knitted it for weeks, with love and tenderness, only a mother can give. Eddie pressed the wool cloth to his face and breathed in the scent of her, and he immediately felt better. "Everything's going to be all right," he muttered.

  2. teechar's Avatar
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    English Teacher
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    #2

    Re: When Eddie was a little boy

    Quote Originally Posted by Bassim View Post
    Would you please correct the mistakes in this short text, which I wrote as an exercise?


    When Eddie was a little boy, he used to sit on the porch of his home and watch planes in the sky. In the daylight, they looked like large metallic birds leaving white streaks behind, and in the night, they blinked red, green and white. "Where are all those people flying to?" he wondered. He couldn't imagine Little did he know that two decades later, he would sit in get on one of those metallic birds and fly towards a better future. As the plane ascended, he looked out the side window at the people and buildings that were becoming ever smaller and insignificant.


    A thought flashed in his mind that his own existence meant nothing in the universe. He was less no more important than a speck of dust. He felt the fear rising in the pit of his stomach, and he took out of his pocket a scarf, which his mother had given to him before he left the home. She had knitted it for spent weeks knitting it, with the love and tenderness, only a mother can give. Eddie pressed the wool cloth to his face and breathed in the scent of her, and he immediately felt better. "Everything's going to be all right," he muttered.
    .

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