题型:阅读理解 题类:常考题 难易度:普通
江苏省盐城市2019-2020学年高二下学期英语期中考试试卷(含听力音频)
I have been carrying a notebook and pen around with me since I was three. I practiced letters over and over because the act of writing was appealing. Once I could form words, I discovered the beauty of the sentence. The pages transformed into two- or three-line tales about dogs and horses and something else that interested me.
Eventually, I began to understand what it was my heart longed for: to create words and stories. I wrote plays out of the adventures of my American Girl dolls and mimicked(模仿) the mysteries of Harry Potter. I scribbled(涂鸦) across margins in class notes and grabbed any magazine that caught my eye.
I was 11 when I wandered into a Goodwill shop one afternoon with my mother. We searched for treasures and I discovered a row of old typewriters. Most were black, some electric and others manual(手动的), almost all behemoths(庞然大物). Many keys were yellowed with age, but they all shone up at me like magic. I spent long minutes opening cases, tapping keys, shifting rollers to hear that oh-so-delightful ping. At last, I came across a small tan case. Inside was a 1950s baby blue Smith Corona typewriter. I was instantly attracted.
I begged my mom to buy it. Despite my puppy-dog eyes, we left without it. Months passed, and the typewriter left my mind. Christmas arrived with a usual number of presents, until we reached the last one: a tiny box behind the tree. Inside I found a typewriter tape, along with instructions to look under my brother's bed. With a scream I dashed for his room and found a familiar tan case hidden below.
Within minutes, I had the baby blue beauty set up at our dining table and paper gathered. Growing up, I spent many hours pulling out the typewriter whenever I wanted to copy handwritten stories or needed inspiration. I dragged it with me when I moved from Illinois to Washington.
My typewriter made my childhood dreams of being a writer feel real. Its well-worn keys stoked the creativity in my soul. The words I imagined went from the scribbled pages of notebooks to the print of the typewriter. It was as if I was turning these fantasies into published works all on my own.
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