Entangled英語は毎日触れるから上達する！

今回も著作権切れ洋書を載せます。
まずは第1章を載せます。When I was very young, I would watch the children’s tv slot at midday. Fifteen minutes of wonder from an old fifteen-inch monochrome CRT television. On Fridays, invariably at my Grandmothers, they showed the Woodentops, a family of crudely fashioned string puppets who owned a farm. Their children had enjoyed their weekly misadventure, usually with a spotty dog, whose stiff legs would bounce him around the farmyard with an ineptitude that wouldn’t pass muster with the kids of today.

The stories were simple, we were five years old, for Heaven’s sake, and there was none of the moralising or life lessons that you would be fed these days, just fun and some small peril. I, however, can’t remember the stories, because they were of secondary interest. I would be staring past the characters at the painted background. Faraway hills and tall summer trees against a wide horizon. What was there? Who was there? Where were their houses, and what were they about in this mysterious hinterland? I longed for the tale to leave the farmyard and venture far afield. You’ve got a Dog, right? Doesn’t he ever run away? He never did, budgetary and puppetry constraints kept the action front and centre. Nevertheless, I would stare - longing to be there in the bland acrylic sunshine, lost in imagined adventure.

In the forty years since I’ve found that horizon. From continent to continent, sometimes walking with a stick and pack, sometimes on wheels. Sometimes accompanied, sometimes solitary. The adventure finding resolution or not, but always a precursor to the next one. I love this world. It’s not too small, not too big. It can be kind, and it can be mindlessly cruel and petty. You can be hugged, and you can be raped, shown hospitality, or conned out of everything. You need an agile mind that can be open or cynical as the situation requires. You need to be prepared to love where you’re going, or who you’re going to, or to bid it farewell smartly if it’s not right.

Along the way, I accumulated a master’s degree in Anthropology and a degree in Journalism. At least I stood still that long. I didn’t think either would help with the wandering gene, but they kind of fit, right? I met the love of my life on the way, and Alice loved me dearly until she died two years later. I began to travel again, it was like a drug, and the miles that passed under my feet were the only solace in my lonely and increasingly desperate world. I didn’t know where my endless journey would take me…