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Sun 24 Apr, 2005 02:14 pm
Two months ago, I was invited by my uncle Sergio to go to a car race. My uncle took me and some friends to this race in Brasilia where I was on vacation. I was very nervous, I had never driven a cart before, so my friend Francesca, who didn´t want to drive went in the car with me. The race started, I was in the third place next to the second. When I looked to Francesca to say something, a man appeared in the middle of the road, but I saw him too late, I was trying to break while he was looking to the sky and we crashed. As fast as I could, I stopped and asked him if he was OK, but he didn´t say anything. While Francesca was crying, I was thinking I had killed a man when my friend Jason arrived. I told him what happened. When he was looking at the man, he jumped and Jason jumped too, everybody cried, but after that, the man said he was fine, he was just kidding, and he went away.
Either you shouldn't be allowed to write or you're sick
What would you like me to say, jose?
Your story is written as a dream. Is it?