Bassim
VIP Member
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2008
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Bosnian
- Home Country
- Bosnia Herzegovina
- Current Location
- Sweden
Have I made any mistakes? This text is just an exercise, and I wrote it spontaneously.
As Peter sat reading a book, he wondered what use he had from all that knowledge when he felt miserable. His life was slipping away from him like grains of sand between fingers, and he felt powerless to change his destiny. He had squandered his youth in pursuing a dream of becoming a great painter, and when he finally admitted to himself that he was mediocre, years had passed, and he sat in front of an empty wall, like a prisoner who didn't know if he would ever be released. He wished he could earn his own money, instead of living on welfare, but thinking of any kind of job filled him with anxiety. Just imagining stacking shelves in a supermarket or cleaning offices made his body shake. He knew that his colleagues would laugh at him. They would point at him as Peter was sweeping the floor with a broom and say, "Look at the painter! He is more skilful with a broom than with a brush!" They would roar with laughter, and he would turn purple with shame and want to sink through the floor with humiliation.
As Peter sat reading a book, he wondered what use he had from all that knowledge when he felt miserable. His life was slipping away from him like grains of sand between fingers, and he felt powerless to change his destiny. He had squandered his youth in pursuing a dream of becoming a great painter, and when he finally admitted to himself that he was mediocre, years had passed, and he sat in front of an empty wall, like a prisoner who didn't know if he would ever be released. He wished he could earn his own money, instead of living on welfare, but thinking of any kind of job filled him with anxiety. Just imagining stacking shelves in a supermarket or cleaning offices made his body shake. He knew that his colleagues would laugh at him. They would point at him as Peter was sweeping the floor with a broom and say, "Look at the painter! He is more skilful with a broom than with a brush!" They would roar with laughter, and he would turn purple with shame and want to sink through the floor with humiliation.
