The little leaf.

[Beeesneees]

Hi Pasban,

Regarding eye span, from what you’ve explained I’d say see an optician to rule out any physical condition!

[Saeedsh]

Please amend me. Thanks a lot in advance.

@Kitosdad

The brook, which in Summertime gently gurgled along, parallel to the pathway, was today in full flood, almost overflowing its small banks. The thawing snow had caused a great flood of ice-cold water to enter the small culvert and surge forward to find a source of release.

The old Oak which stood on the bank of the brook, had given up all of its leaves to the strong Autumn winds, that is, all but one.
This last leaf had been sturdy, and its hold on the branch of the Oak had been strong and vigorous, but now, now in its old age and lacking its former companions, it finally surrendered its hold on the branch.

Gently it floated downward contenting itself in the knowledge that in its decaying it would feed the mighty Oak that had once been its parent.
Who knew, it may be again reborn, reborn to deck the limbs of its parent once more.
A sudden flurry of wind altered the course of its descent, and it landed instead on the surface of the dark swirling water.

It was pulled violently beneath the surface and pounded against the sides of the bank.
On and on it sped, sometimes beneath the surface and sometimes atop.
“This isn’t suppose to happen to me,” the leaf thought to itself. "I’m supposed to nestle at the feet of my parent until I decay, and in my decaying I would provide sustenance for my parent.

But all of its thoughts and hopes were in vain, for the water carried it far, far away, to the stormy turbulent sea, where it was pulverised into tiny fragments and eaten by the fishes who dwell there.

[Kitosdad]

That was really good Saeedsh. There is nothing to be corrected. Your rhythm and pronunciation were both very good. You should encounter no problems in your TOEFL exam

[Saeedsh]

Thanks, dear Kitos. You really encourage me. By the way, your short story was very interesting; I have to say that I was not used to reading such type of English text, and I learned several new words by reading it.

[Kitosdad]

“I was not used to reading such type of English text.”

I’m not surprised to hear you say that Saeedsh. I wrote it simply to illustrate that by using your imagination you are able to write an interesting passage about the most mundane of things. I think I followed that one by writing about a stone.
My old Grandmother, although being illiterate, could weave the most magical of stories. My friends and I would listen to her stories in rapture. Every night at bedtime she would tell me a story that would send my imagination soaring through space. I think of all the gifts she endowed me with, my imagination was the greatest.

[Saeedsh]

That’s great that you have had such opportunity. The only person I remember telling me stories, was my father who always told me the same famous stories from children books.