THE INVISIBLE WRITER
I was a writer. I wrote books. I write now but nobody knows.
Nobody can see me now.
Something strange has happend to me.
I will tell you about it. In january, I wanted to weite a very long book. So I left my home and I
found a little room.
“This is a good room for a writer” I thought. “I´ll write my book here”.
It was a little room, but I liked it. It was very quiet.
I began to work on my book and I was happy. Then things began to happen- strange things.
One day, I was at my desk with my pen in my hand. Suddenly, I thought, “I want a coffee and
haven´t got any. I´ll have to go to the shop. I put my pen on the table and went out.
When I came back, I look for the pen.
It wasn´t on the table. I looked on the floor, on my chair and then on the table again. It wasn´t
there! “I don´t understand it” I thought. That night another strange thing happent. I was in bed
and the room was very quiet. Suddenly a opend my eyes. “what was that” I wondered. Then I
heard a voice- a man´s voice. “Who´s there?” I cried.
There was no answer and there was nobody in the room! I coudn´t understand it, and I was afraid.
“What can I do?” I thought. “What was that?” After that, strange things happend every day. But
I hav«d to finish my work, so I stayed there.
The room was very small. There were not many things in it, only a bed, a table and a chair. And
there was a mirror on the wall. It was a very olg mirror and I liked it
And then, one day, I looked in the mirror and- I saw him. The other man! It wasn´t me this man
had a beard, but I didn´t! I shut my eyes and looked again. This time, I saw my face in the mirror.
“That didn´t happen,”. I thought.
“I was wrong. There wasn´t another man”. I went for a walk that day, and I didn´t work on my
book. I didn´t want to be in the room, I didn´t want to see or hear strange things. At night, I wnet
home again. The room was very quiet. I looked in the mirror and saw my face.
But I wasn´t happy. I went to bed, but I coudn´t sleep.
