Question

Ati putea sa verificați daca textul următor are greseli gramaticale?

4:32. Good. That's better than last night. Once again, awake before sunrise. Since she left, I didn't really get a full night of sleep. I try to get up, pushing the blanket which now feels like the heaviest thing I could even attempt to push, and with a quick movemant, my feet touch the cold floor. I get up and walk to the kitchen as the base of my pants crawl on the floor, my whole body clinging to five more minutes of sleep. But my mind knows I can't. So I don't. Instead, I do the opposite, and make myself a pot of dark coffee. She liked her coffee white. I remember always fighting on this and we always ended up making it white because I didn't dare to make her mad in the morning. I come back from my flash back with the sound of the coffee machine, telling me my coffee is ready. As I pour the coffee in the cup - her cup - I feel another memory getting a hold of me. I remember how we used to move the couch in front of the window, just to sit with our legs crossed over each other, starring at the city as it woke up, from our big window of our apartament on the 10th floor of the building. After she left, I didnt move. Suddenly, my hand is filled with pain as I realise I hadn't stopped pouring coffee when the cup had filled. I clean up and go back to my bed, with the cup of coffee in my hand. One, two, three knocks on the door. I sigh at the thought that I didn't even get a sip of coffee. As I slowly go towards the door, I look at myself in the mirror she placed in the hallway. "A goregeous woman is a smart woman", she would say to me when I would sigh at how much time she spent on her looks. I finally get to the door. I open the door and the sight of him makes me feel weird. Not how she made me feel. No. He makes me feel sorry for myself, guilty of the sins i have done and those i haven't, trapped in the house i have the key to and so I find myself avoiding his eyes. I invite him in, with a gesture that he knows too well. We don't talk for a while. He looks at the walls, the furniture, as if he hadn't seen each corner of this house before. I don't like his company. It was her last wish to get rid of him before she left and despite that, I can't seem to control this attraction towards pain. I am not sorry for who I am. I am sorry for who I have become.

Answer 1

Tried* . didn't talk* looked* became*

In rest este super ok si emoționant:)) Imi place..

Succes!!