Reading and speaking practice.

[Kitosdad]

Good morning all. This is a short story I wrote last Xmas. It should be good practice for you in reading and speaking aloud. Give it a try. Anyone fancy recording it?
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I had no recall as to how I had come to be walking down this long dusty road, or just how long I had been walking.
I was dog-tired and weary.
Looking down at the clothes that I was wearing, I wasn't really surprised that the few cars that had passed me by had completely ignored my attempts to hitch a lift.
I wouldn't have stopped either, seeing someone of my unkempt appearance hoping to be given a ride in a nice car.

The rain started to fall and I sought shelter under a large cluster of trees, in fact it was a small wood, and I was grateful for its being there to afford me some respite from what now had become a torrential downpour of rain.
Eventually even the trees began to drip their rain upon me.
They had done their job, and now it was up to me to find better shelter.

Looking around in desperation, I spied a large house standing majestically atop a hillside.
Surely someone there would let me stay in the barn, or even the garage.
Running as fast as I could I reached the house after a few minutes.
There was indeed a barn, and its door stood ajar.

Hurrying inside was like walking into another world. Dry and calm.
I closed the door behind me and lay down on a huge pile of hay that was stacked in the far corner.
I must have fallen asleep from exhaustion, for when I again opened my eyes it was night-time and the stars were shining in a clear sky.
The rain had long ceased to fall and the evening was still and calm.

Leaving the barn I slowly walked around the perimeter of the house. It was in total darkness.
No car in the drive, and no sign of occupants.
At the rear of the house I found the door to the kitchen standing wide-open.That was strange!

Knocking on the open door I called a tentative, "Hello," but received no reply.
To all intents and purposes the house was empty.
Surely the occupants hadn't left the house without locking the kitchen-door?
Switching on the lights I discovered that the kitchen was enormous.
Obviously a very wealthy family were living here.

Hunger overcame my reluctance to steal, and I opened the door to the large refrigerator that stood apart from the rest of the lavishly appointed kitchen.
What a sight greeted my eyes, for it was packed full with food of all descriptions.
Taking a ready-cooked chicken and a jar of pickles, I sat at the huge table and began to satisfy my hunger.
I made cup after cup of scalding hot coffee, and gulped them down between mouthfuls of delicious chicken.
There was even a pack of cigarettes lying on the worktop and I sat back smoking whilst enjoying my surroundings.

My next job was to go in search of something to write with, and on, as I'd no intention of leaving without writing an explanatory note to the hapless owners of this magnificent house.
Wandering through the expensively appointed rooms I was unable to find anything that I could use. Perhaps there would be something in the bedrooms.

I wandered upstairs and entered what turned out to be the master-bedroom.
There was nothing at all in the bedside cabinets. They were completely empty!
That again was strange.
I opened the wardrobe door and was surprised to find that there was only one suit hanging there.
On the shelf was an expensive shirt and a pair of dress shoes, and a set of underwear and sox.
The other wardrobe was completely empty!
This really was becoming a mystery.

The other bedrooms, apart from the furniture, were completely empty of clothing.
Perhaps the owners had gone on holiday?
That was the only suggestion my befuddled brain could come up with.

Entering the bathroom I found there were two large bath-towels hanging on a heated towel-rail, and an electric razor lying on the basin edge.
This was indeed a Godsend. Everything I needed for a fresh start.

I ran a hot bath, and while it was filling I shaved my face with the razor.
How beautifully it removed the unkempt stubble.
I was already beginning to feel like a new man.

Now soaking in the steaming bath I tried desperately to recall the events of the passed days, but I was only capable of odd flashes of memory.
Something about a hospital and nurses, a casino and gambling tables, two beautiful girls...
No, it made no sense yet, but it probably would eventually, given time.

Stepping out of the bath I towelled myself dry, and with the second towel tied around my waist, I walked back to the bedroom.
I donned the underwear and sox, put on the shirt and then the trousers. They fitted me perfectly.
On went the shoes and jacket, and I then inspected myself in the wardrobe's mirrored door.
The transformation was unbelievable.
"Clothes maketh the man." The old saying was indeed accurate.

Suddenly I had an overwhelming desire to rest once again, so I lay back on the bed, fully dressed, and closed my eyes.
Again flashes of memory overcame me; A doctor saying to a nurse that I would have to be committed to a sanatorium the next day.
The nurse giving me medication that I only pretended to swallow.
The furtive escape from the hospital during the night, wearing whatever clothing I had managed to find in the orderlies lockers.
Nothing fitted me, but I didn't care, I just needed to escape from this dreaded hospital.

Then only running, running, running, until totally exhausted, I had found this beautiful house.
I fell into a deep sleep. The last sleep that I was to ever have.

Meanwhile, in another country, a beautiful elderly lady was enjoying her breakfast.
She opened the morning paper and gazed at the picture of an unkempt face, along with an artist's sketch showing the face as it would appear were it truly recognisable.

Above were the glaring headlines, "DO YOU RECOGNISE THIS MAN?"
Accompanying the pictures was a graphic account relating to the man.
His body had been found in a derelict building in the city centre.
Police were asking for any information that the public could offer.

The lady smiled to herself, and folding the newspaper, she gently placed it in the rubbish bin.
It had taken a long time, but fate had finally evened the scores.

Kitos.
_________________
Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[Kitosdad]

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OK, nobody wants to give it a try. I'll do it myself. :-))
_________________
Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[Tomasito]

Hi Kitos. I'd love to read it aloud. Is it possible to record using my cell phone and then upload it to to the forum?
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Education is a progressive discovery of our own ignorance.
- Will Durant

[Kitosdad]

I really have no idea Tom as I have no need for such contraptions. Maybe one of our readers knows the answer to that one.
_________________
Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[Ketki.karachiwala]

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hi kitos,

lemme give it a try~

ketki

[Kitosdad]

Good morning Ketki. That was remarkably good! You voice is extremely clear, and your punctuation very good. I absolutely adore your wonderful accent
The only retrograde comment that I can make is that you spoke a little too quickly, but this also shows confidence in your ability to speak English.
Thank you very much for having the confidence to narrate this story.
Now I hope that your efforts will encourage others to give it a try.

Kitos.
_________________
Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[Ketki.karachiwala]

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hey kitos,
Thanks...

[Kitosdad]

Hello Ketki. Would you care to try another?
_________________
Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[Kitosdad]

Hello Ketki. Would you care to try another?

Again, no apologies for resurrecting my previously posted story, as I'm sure many of our newer members have not read it. Enjoy.
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The quayside pub was packed, as usual, and I had to elbow my way to the bar to order a drink.
The air was thick with smoke, but mingled within the dense blanket of exhaled smoke was the unmistakable, pungent aroma, of "his" pipe.

"He" sat in his usual window seat. All the better to watch the ships that sailed slowly past on their way out to sea, or back to a safe berth in the harbour.
Everyone called him Captain, but truth be known, he had never captained a single vessel in his entire life.

He was seventy years old and long since retired from seafaring, but he was the most interesting of men.
His tales were the stuff of legend, and his glass was never allowed to go empty whilst he was in full-flow with one of his many tales.

He'd manned whaling ships, tramp steamers and tugs, and each tale he told was the absolute truth, therefore everyone wished it to continue to its climax.
He was a wonderful storyteller and never ever seemed to run out of new adventures to relate.

Every man in the bar admired, and secretly feared him, for he had a violent temper, and it was well known that he had walked away unscathed from a multiple of dockside brawls.
Definitely a man to be wary of.

He feared only one person in the world.
That was his wife Sarah.

Sarah and he had been married for fifty years, and he loved her with all of his heart. They had never once quarrelled in all of those years, because he knew, above all other things, that she loved him deeply in return, and he would never say a word to hurt her in any way.

He had had an unhappy childhood and he recognised love when it came his way.
His Sarah was a beauty, and he would wonder until his dying day just what she had seen in him as a young man. He wasn't good-looking.
In fact some, behind his back, would say he was really ugly and dumb.

But his Sarah, she had recognised immediately that here was a man on whom she would be able to depend for the whole of her life, and she'd loved him from the very first moment of their meeting.

They had no children, more is the pity, so they had just accepted that that was the way it would be, and had loved each other even more deeply.
His only other love was the ocean, but this would never be a contender for his love of Sarah.

Every day he walked slowly to the quayside tavern and "his" seat by the window was always vacant.
No-one cared, or dared, to occupy it, even if he was late in arriving and the tavern was packed, "his" seat was always vacant.

Each evening at 9.00 p.m. promptly the door of the tavern would open, and Sarah would be standing there in the doorway.
She would glare at him demandingly, and he would stare back defiantly, but in each pair of eyes was the sparkle of love and respect.

He would down his drink and stand slowly and stretch his arms to the heavens.
"Well me'boys, time I was in me' hammock," he would bellow, and an avenue would be made for him through the crowded bar.
Sarah would allow him to pass through the open doorway, and then she would deliver a broad wink to the assembled mariners drinking there.

That was the night he died in his sleep, and Sarah came to the tavern to inform everyone there. She never cried or showed any sign of grief, but the light had gone from her eyes.
Things would never be the same for her, nor for the crowd in the bar.

To this very day "his" chair has never been sat in by a single person. Everyone knows he is still sitting there , looking out of the window, watching the ships go by.

Kitos.
_________________
Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[Ketki.karachiwala]

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Yes Kitto,

I would love to read it as far as i can improve my speaking and be more confident..

here it goes....lemme kno abt your comments,

k2

[Ketki.karachiwala]

need some more.... :P

[Ketki.karachiwala]

[Linaseattle]

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What a wonderful story Kitos. Thanks for posting it. Lina
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I am looking for a skype partner to practice my English.

[Ketki.karachiwala]

hey Lina,

Y dont u read it aloud!?????

[Linaseattle]

Hi Ketki,
I did. I did.... Thanks for stopping by. Lina
_________________
I am looking for a skype partner to practice my English.