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Nouvelles en Anglais!


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Bon , d'abord pour ceux qui veulent apprendre l'Anglais, je vous recommande un site-forum génial, qui m'a permis de beaucoup progresser:

Free English Tests for ESL/EFL, TOEFL®, TOEIC®, SAT®, GRE®, GMAT®

 

Alors, dans ce topic, je posterai des nouvelles en Anglais, que certains membres de English-test forum postent qutodiennement, et notamment,Kitosdad. Elles sont simples et délicieuses à lire.

 

 

The Addict

 

He was a little crazy.

 

From the moment of their meeting she had recognised this, but he had such an appealing air about him that she found herself attracted to him in a way that she had never felt before toward any other man.

 

He was very good-looking, with deep blue eyes and tousled fair hair that really needed some urgent attention. She was attracted to him like iron to a magnet, and for the whole night of the party she never left his side.

 

When the party ended she didn't want to lose his company, so she invited him to spend the night at her apartment.

They shared the single bed, and she was so happy when he spent the entire night holding her close, with no attempt of sexual contact.

 

The next morning she left for work. He was still sleeping, and it was her fervent hope that he would be still there when she returned........... He was, and she set about preparing a meal for them both.

 

He was very open with her, and he explained that he was indeed an addict. He had a private income from his parent's estate, and he added that it was lucky for him that he had, for he was incapable of holding down a job.

She accepted him for what he was, and they lived together for several years, during which time she gave birth to a son, and later, a daughter.

 

He meant everything to her, and she never tired of telling him so.

She knew that deep down he loved her in return, but was incapable of truly expressing his feelings for her.

 

Whenever he was under the influence of drugs he was never nasty or hostile, but he was often incoherent in his speech, and she often had to translate his words to their friends or children. All she knew was that she was so very happy, and so very much in love with her man.

She was deeply satisfied in her role of wife, mother and lover.

Was there any other woman more happy with her lot in life, she often wondered.

 

One fine morning, after taking the children to school, she returned to find him packing a small suitcase.

He said he was leaving, but offered no reason for his doing so.

She knew it was futile to press him for a reason so she said nothing.

He left by the front door, and she watched from the upstairs window, as he slowly dwindled into the distance.

She felt so empty and sad. She lay on the bed and softly wept herself to sleep.

 

She was awakened by a knock on the front door, and hurrying downstairs she slowly opened the door.

 

He was stood there, his eyes filled with tears.

 

"You're all I've ever had," he said as he gently kissed her.

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The captain

 

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 soul. Everyone knows he is sitting there still, looking out of the window, watching the ships go by.

 

Kitos.

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