A Letter About the Missed Bus
Lee este artículo en voz alta
Enciende el micrófono y lee a tu ritmo. Las palabras se iluminan sobre la marcha y nadie te detiene por un error.
Tu audio nunca llega a MovaReader: lo reconoce tu navegador. Política de Privacidad
Inicia sesión para guardar esta sesión en tu historial de lectura.
A Letter About the Missed Bus
Dear Aunt Helen,
I am writing because yesterday was one of those days when nothing went according to plan. I think you will laugh when you hear the story.
I was leaving home at eight because I had a dentist appointment across town. While I was locking the door, my phone was ringing and I was talking to Mom for five minutes.
At the bus stop I was checking the timetable when the number seven bus was passing without stopping. The driver was not seeing me because I was standing behind a large poster.
I was running to the next stop, but the road was icy and I was slipping once near the corner. A shop owner was watching from the doorway while I was catching my breath.
When the next bus arrived, it was full and was not opening the rear doors.