A narrative story

It seemed that the day would be as boring as usually, but nothing indicated the horror I would go through. I was sitting in a comfortable armchair eating doughnuts and switching the channels when I found the Local News Channel: ‘A boy was torn to pieces by one dog, presumably by a big, aggressive husky. The animal made several lethal wounds to the boy and injured three other people who are now fighting for life in the hospital.’ The news shocked me: ‘Damn, another one. They should have caught that bastard.’ I thought.

I got up, put on my shoes and my coat as I had just remembered myself that I had to post a letter. I went down the stairs and through a long hall, and I made my way out. The air was extremely heavy, with dense fog everywhere, nearly as dull as in London at this time of the year. The clouds were a thick mixture of grey and black, which did not even let a single ray of light break through.
I walked quite fast among colourful leaves bearing in mind that the post office would be closed
in ten minutes’ time when I saw in the mist something that made my blood run cold. At the beginning, it was only a dark shadow, but when it approached, I could clearly see the angry eyes, open mouth, sharp teeth and the raised tail. The enormous husky stopped about five yards in front of me scowling at me with its piercing, black eyes. I shivered with horror when I realised that the dog had bloodstains all around its head and on the chest! I moved a few steps back after I had understood that it had to be the one that I had heard about in the news.

Suddenly, I realised that there was nobody in the park except for the animal and me. Never before have I been in such a fearful and stressful situation! I noticed that I could hear no other sound that the beating of my heart: even the wind was not blowing. All of a sudden, the dog made a growl making my hair stand on end. Certainly, I must have been very pale then as I could feel that the husky was going to attack in a second. As if it could read my thoughts, the animal moved towards me. I shielded my face with my hands waiting for the furious blow, my heart beating at the highest rate, but... nothing happened. The dog passed beside me and ran away.
I heaved a sigh of relief and slowly lowered my hands. Suddenly, I felt someone tapping my
shoulder. I turned around. In front of me, I saw a short, lank, old lady who asked: ‘Excuse me, my boy, haven’t you seen my little puppy?’

Dodaj swoją odpowiedź
Język angielski

jak najszybciej!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! jakąś historyjkę (narrative story) szli przez las ..................................... przynajmniej 13 zdań po angielsku.(nie bierzcie zdń z tłumacz)bo moja baba się kapnie z góry dzięki

jak najszybciej!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! jakąś historyjkę (narrative story) szli przez las ..................................... przynajmniej 13 zdań po angielsku.(nie bierzcie zdń z tłumacz)bo moja baba się kapnie z góry dzięki...

Język angielski

Narrative Story

The sun, tired after wandering all day throught the winter skies, was just taking cover behind the highest buildings of the city. The moon had already managed to come out. The day was slowly changing into night. Although main streets should have bee...

Język angielski

Types of prose.

Short story is a prose narrative of limited length. In one sense the short story is as old as any literary form and must have existed for thousands of years before the art of writing was known. Possibly the oldest recorded example is the Egyptian ta...

Język angielski

Historia literatury angielskiej

Characteristic features of old eng literature: - alliteration-the repetition of initial sounds is stress syllables ; - meter-iambic meter; -ceasura-przerwa na nabranie oddechu= 2 accented syllables in the 1st half line, then caesura and then next ha...

Język angielski

List po przeczytaniu "The color purple" by Alice Walker

1 North Oak Dr.
North Heaven
N.Y 11867
Monday 11th June 2002
Dear Maggie,

Thanks very much for your letter. It was lovely to hear from you. I’m glad you have found a new passion: books. I think you will find my letter quit...