طلب. ممكن قصة حقيقية بالغة الأنجلينزية

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طلب. ممكن قصة حقيقية بالغة الأنجلينزية

تتكون تقريباً من 2 او 1 صفحة


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او قصة فيها انـــــــــقــــــاذ

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*****

[فداء الزهراء]

هذي قصه بس هذي صفحة وحده بس يعني اذا بخط اليد تصير صفحة وحده اما بالكمبيوتر تصير اقل المهــم مسوتنها للانج طالبين علينا قصه اتمنى ان توفي الغرض

In sunny day at the end of August, where the weather is very hot, I went with my family, which consists of my parents, sister and brother to the park located north of the Kingdom of Bahrain. The facilities of this beautiful garden; wonderful swimming pool and there was also a football stadium which we played in. after that we went for lunch with family members, then we had some sports such as tennis and football ... in the meantime, we glossed some small moments of our brother when we play with each other, where he run near to depth pool and fall inside! And he was not good in swimming; in the meantime, a strange sense of consternation that there is something happened and we went away by about blessings to save our brother from drowning, but unfortunately we could not save him!

[بنت العرب]

أني بعد عندي قصة أنشاء الله تعجبش
The Death Car
It was a cold night in September. The rain was drumming on the car roof as George and Marie Winston drove through the empty country roads towards the house of their friends, the Harrisons, where they were going to attend a party to celebrate the engagement of the Harrisons' daughter, Lisa. As they drove, they listened to the local radio station, which was playing classical music.
They were about five miles from their destination when the music on the radio was interrupted by a news announcement:
"The Cheshire police have issued a serious warning after a man escaped from Colford Mental Hospital earlier this evening. The man, John Downey, is a murderer who killed six people before he was captured two years ago. He is described as large, very strong and extremely dangerous. People in the Cheshire area are warned to keep their doors and windows locked, and to call the police immediately if they see anyone acting strangely."
Marie shivered. "A crazy killer. And he's out there somewhere. That's scary."
"Don't worry about it," said her husband. "We're nearly there now. Anyway, we have more important things to worry about. This car is losing power for some reason -- it must be that old problem with the carburetor. If it gets any worse, we'll have to stay at the Harrisons' tonight and get it fixed before we travel back tomorrow."
As he spoke, the car began to slow down. George pressed the accelerator, but the engine only coughed. Finally they rolled to a halt, as the engine died completely. Just as they stopped, George pulled the car off the road, and it came to rest under a large tree.
"Blast!" said George angrily. "Now we'll have to walk in the rain."
"But that'll take us an hour at least," said Marie. "And I have my high-heeled shoes and my nice clothes on. They'll be ruined!"
"Well, you'll have to wait while I run to the nearest house and call the Harrisons. Someone can come out and pick us up," said George.
"But George! Have you forgotten what the radio said? There's a homicidal maniac out there! You can't leave me alone here!"
"You'll have to hide in the back of the car. Lock all the doors and lie on the floor in the back, under this blanket. No-one will see you. When I come back, I'll knock three times on the door. Then you can get up and open it. Don't open it unless you hear three knocks." George opened the door and slipped out into the rain. He quickly disappeared into the blackness.
Marie quickly locked the doors and settled down under the blanket in the back for a long wait. She was frightened and worried, but she was a strong-minded woman. She had not been waiting long, however, when she heard a strange scratching noise. It seemed to be coming from the roof of the car.
Marie was terrified. She listened, holding her breath. Then she heard three slow knocks, one after the other, also on the roof of the car. Was it her husband? Should she open the door? Then she heard another knock, and another. This was not her husband. It was somebody -- or something -- else. She was shaking with fear, but she forced herself to lie still. The knocking continued -- bump, bump, bump, bump.
Many hours later, as the sun rose, she was still lying there. She had not slept for a moment. The knocking had never stopped, all night long. She did not know what to do. Where was George? Why had he not come for her?
Suddenly, she heard the sound of three or four vehicles, racing quickly down the road. All of them pulled up around her, their tires screeching on the road. At last! Someone had come! Marie sat up quickly and looked out of the window.
The three vehicles were all police cars, and two still had their lights flashing. Several policemen leapt out. One of them rushed towards the car as Marie opened the door. He took her by the hand.
"Get out of the car and walk with me to the police vehicle. miss. You're safe now. Look straight ahead. Keep looking at the police car. Don't look back. Just don't look back."
Something in the way he spoke filled Marie with cold horror. She could not help herself. About ten yards from the police car, she stopped, turned and looked back at the empty vehicle.
George was hanging from the tree above the car, a rope tied around his neck. As the wind blew his body back and forth, his feet were bumping gently on the roof of the car -- bump, bump, bump, bump.

(MDH 1994 -- From a common urban legend)
أنزين وهذه قصة ثانية :
The Choking Dog
"Come on, come on, move it, idiot!"
Joanne beat impatiently on the steering wheel of her Mercedes sports car. How stupid to get caught up in the rush hour! She had planned to leave work early this afternoon, at three o'clock, to give herself a chance to relax and have a bath before going out to a meeting of her local tennis club. But just at ten to three a client had arrived, and it was two hours before she had finished dealing with the man. When she came out of her office, all the other staff in the Highlight Advertising Agency had already left. Now she was stuck in a traffic jam in central Birmingham at 5:30, and at 6:30 she was expected to be chairing a meeting of the tennis club. There would be no time for any hot bath.
Ahead of her, the traffic was moving at last, and she swung quickly out into the centre lane to turn right, and raced the last half-mile through the quiet suburban streets to her house. Pulling up on the driveway, she leapt out of the car and ran for the house. As she opened the door, she nearly tripped over Sheba, who was standing behind it.
"Hey, Sheba, hello," she said, bending down to stroke the large alsatian dog's head, "I've got no time for you now, but I'll take you out as soon as I get back from the tennis club."
It was then that she noticed something worrying about the dog. Sheba seemed to be coughing or choking, her stomach pumping repeatedly as if she was trying to vomit something up. She was obviously in real discomfort and could hardly breathe; her sad eyes gazed up at Joanne helplessly.
"Oh damn, this is all I need now," said Joanne to herself, dropping her briefcase and bending down to take a closer look, "a sick dog, today of all days!" On closer examination, Sheba did look very sick, and Joanne realised she would have to take her down to the vet immediately. Luckily, the vet's surgery was only a few streets away, and Joanne quickly loaded the dog, still coughing and choking, into her car for the short drive.
When she got there, the surgery was just about to close for the day. Luckily, Dr. Sterne had not left yet, and when he saw the state of Sheba, he brought her quickly into his office.
"It looks like something is stuck in her throat," said Dr. Sterne. It shouldn't take me too long to get it out."
"Listen, doctor, I'm really in a rush to get to a meeting -- can I leave her with you, and go and get changed? I'll be back in ten minutes to pick her up, then I'll take her on to the meeting with me. Is that OK?"
"Sure," said the doctor. "You get going. I'll see you in ten minutes."
Joanne jumped back into her car again, and made the quick trip round to her house in a couple of minutes. As she was once more entering the hallway, the phone on the table by the door began to ring. She picked it up, annoyed by this additional interruption to her plans.
"This is Dr. Sterne," said an anxious voice. "Is that you, Joanne?"
"Of course it's me," said Joanne, surprised at the sound of his voice, "no-one else lives here."
"I want you to get right out of that house immediately," said the doctor's voice. "Right now. I'm coming round right away, and the police will be there any time now. Wait outside for us." The phone went dead. Joanne stared at it. She was confused, but she was also a little frightened by the obvious fear in the voice of the doctor. She replaced the receiver, then quickly backed out of the door and ran into the street.
At that moment, a police car with its lights flashing swung round the corner and screeched to a stop outside the house. Two policemen got out. After briefly checking that she was the owner of the house, they ran into the house through the still open door, without explaining anything. Joanne was by now completely confused and very frightened. Then the doctor arrived.
"Where's Sheba? Is she OK?" shouted Joanne, running over to his car.
"She's fine, Joanne. I extracted the thing which was choking her, and she's OK now."
"Well what's this all about? Why are the police in my house?"
Just then, the two policemen reappeared from the house, half-carrying a white-faced figure, a man in a dark grey sweater and jeans, who, it seemed, could hardly walk. There was blood all over him.
"My God," said Joanne, "how did he get in there? And how did you know he was there?"
"I think he must be a burglar," said the doctor. "I knew he was there because when I finally removed what was stuck in Sheba's throat, it turned out to be three human fingers. I don't think he's a very happy burglar."

(MDH 1994 -- From a common urban legend)

أصلاً هذه القصة كاتبتها وحد الانجليزية
مع تحياتي (( بنت العرب ))

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شكراً جزيلاً ...
استفدت منهم:.:

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طلب. ممكن قصة حقيقية باللغة الأنجلينزية

تتكون تقريباً من 2 او 1 صفحة


الى المدرسة


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