ANNEYONGASAEYO
Write an original story entitled 'The Secret'.
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Answers
Answer:
One day that daughter went to interview and got a very good offer. Her friends too obtained. But the daughter never wants to reveal that she got a job. She asked her friends too to keep the job offer of her's alone a secret and told the reason and asked them to keep the secret.
Explanation:
Hope it helps you.
Explanation:
passengers climb in.
“Where does he think all those people are going to go?” she asked her daughter, who was sitting next to the window.
Jesi was nodding her head, her black hair with blue highlights bouncing along with the music on her Walkman. Elena sighed and looked through the glass at some unspecified point in the street.
“Does the driver think he’s got cattle back here?” someone said. The shrill voice attracted Elena’s attention. She had been thinking about how much money Jesi spent on cassettes. Looking up, she saw a pregnant woman getting on. She elbowed her daughter.
“Jesi, get up.”
Jesi pulled the earphones out of her ears.
“What?”
Elena nodded at the pregnant woman. “Give the lady your seat.”
Jesi stared at her mother, her eyes wide.
“Are you crazy, ma? You want me squashed up against all those people in this skirt?”
Elena sized up her discreet pleated trousers, comparing them to Jesi’s mini-skirt. With a sigh of defeat, she reached for the handrail to pull herself up.
“You’ve always got some excuse, haven’t you?” she said.
“That’s just how it is, ma,” Jesi replied. “They don’t pay attention to old women,” she added in a bright, friendly tone.
Elena looked at Jesi. She saw her put the earphones back in her ears, immediately forgetting what she’d said, before turning back to the window.
Elena looked forward. She saw the pregnant woman trying to squeeze up next to the rail. She waved for her to come over. As the woman tried to make her way through the mass of people, she cursed the general opprobrium that would have resulted had she given Jesi’s tanned cheek a hearty slap.
“Thank you,” said the pregnant woman.
“You’re welcome,” Elena answered with a smile that concealed her discomfort at finding herself pinned back by an eight-month belly. The pregnant woman sat down in the seat with a sigh. Jesi didn’t even notice. Elena tried to spread her feet a little so she could get better balance during the bus’s lurching movements.
“Spoilt brat,” said a woman to her left.
Elena recognized the shrill voice she’d heard before and pretended not to hear. Someone questioning my parenting skills; that’s all I need, she thought. She looked at Jesi angrily. From above, her daughter’s breasts looked larger and perkier. She wondered where that body had come from. No wonder those morons are fighting over her, she thought, remembering the persistent phone calls from two of Jesi’s schoolmates. She thought she was a goddess. What that girl needed was to be put in her place. She was only fourteen after all. When she was her age, Elena had been pretty too, and not just pretty. Most of all she had been rebellious. She had been a thinker. A big thinker. But she put up with the slaps without complaint. It was hardly another century. The sixties to the nineties. It wasn’t even… she interrupted herself. Thirty years? Had it really been thirty years since she was fourteen? She remembered Jagger’s wrinkled skin on TV last month. She felt bad. Was it the heat, the stink of all those people pressed together, or was she about to faint? How old was Jagger now? As she used her sandal to block the advance of the person next to her (the woman with the shrill voice, probably) she tried to do sums. Jagger must have been about twenty when they took the photo of him kissing the microphone for the poster in Pelo magazine. She saw herself sticking up the poster with pins thrust into the shiny wood of her new wardrobe. Keith Richards in his tight velvet trousers. She loved the way they rucked up around his groin. But that was nothing compared to Jagger’s huge mouth. What a wonderful time. Paint it Black playing loudly on the record player and her bedroom door opening. Her mother grabbing hold of her head in front of the wardrobe. Waving her arms like a crazy woman. Poor old woman. Jesi needed to feel a heavy hand like that on her cheek. But had it really been thirty years? Her thoughts were interrupted by firm pressure on her back. Either she had to move a little to the side to make way for this importunate body apparently trying to make more room for itself, or she had to squeeze up against the pregnant woman. She decided to push against the woman to her left. She had no choice but to look at her. The first thing she saw was the damp little moustache, with runnels of sweat running down on either side. The woman was older than her and gave her a nasty look. Elena didn’t want to know how much older she was exactly. Certainly not thirty years. While she tried to accept that thirty years had passed since she was fourteen, since that camp in Gessell, she pushed against the woman to ease the pressure on her back.