sábado, 24 de setembro de 2011

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My village

I live in an old house in the middle of a village. This village is called Prenston. There is a beautiful garden behind my house. The roof of the house is in very bad condition. The name of my street is Lipson Road.
When you turn into Lipson Road you will see three houses: a red one, a blue one and a white one. I live in the white one. Near my house there is an ice-cream parlor where I spend most afternoons with my friends. After school we sometimes go to the fire station to talk to a very nice fireman who always welcomes us saying 'Would you like an apple?'. He's got an apple tree in his house and he always offers us some apples. My best friend, John, lives between an office building and a bakery. My father works in this office building as a freelance translator. So, every morning when he goes to work, he takes me to John's house. From there, John and I walk to school. Somedays, after school, we stop at the playground in front of the Town Hall to wait for Tom, another good friend of ours. Now you know where I live. If you ever come to Prenston, don't forget to visit me.

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