Devil in the Words. Книга для практики английского языка

But this will not be just aВ book, it will be aВ real motivation for all aspiring writers who ever decide toВ write aВ book.В Yes.

Having decided what the book would be about, Peter began toВ figure out where toВ start it. But absolutely nothing came toВ mind.

– The hero will be called Peter. – he thought, coming up with the main character. – Why complicate everything? The book is about Peter, who writes about a writer named Peter. Simple and clear. It’s like putting two mirrors opposite each other.

Am I not a genius? Peter, who writes about Peter, who writes about Peter. And so on ad infinitum. One writer writes about another writer who writes about a writer. There’s definitely something to this. So, in St. Petersburg there lived a young man who dreamed of becoming a writer.

Peter wrote the first few sentences of the book. But the thought did not go beyond the idea. He sat for about an hour on the first paragraph, but still couldn’t come up with anything.

Deciding toВ pour another mug ofВ coffee, he went toВ the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he discovered that the milk had runВ out.

– The milk has run out. – he said when his mother entered the kitchen.

– So go get him.

– Give me money.

– Just give it, give it. How old are you now to still walk around with your hand outstretched and ask me for money? I could go and earn money myself.

Peter did not answer anything, but only harbored aВ grudge somewhere deep down.

They were driven byВ dreams. He could not come toВ terms with the fact that he would have toВ work at aВ factory, live like everyone else, and be content with little. He wanted more, he wanted toВ reach out toВ Hollywood stars, he wanted toВ be part ofВ the star society, part ofВ those people who have yachts, cars, luxury houses, and who receive millions inВ fees for their works.

– Here you go, buy two bottles. – said the mother, putting a hundred rubles on the table.

Peter went into the room and put on his pants and jacket. Leaving the room, he took aВ hundred rubles, put on his sneakers, left the apartment, closed the door, and went outside. Sun was shining. It was the end ofВ September. There were several cars parked inВ the yard. Children played on the playground, and their mothers sat on benches reading magazines and books. Some sat bent over their phones.

Having reached the store, Peter went inside.