A Typhoon
When I was ten years old, I met a typhoon. It really was a frightening typhoon. That evening was so dark. I still can’t forget it. It was a rainy day. Although it was early, the sky was very dark. I was walking in the street with my mother. We were going home. The wind blew more and more strongly. We felt the difference. We started to run fast in order to go home in no time. But the wind was still faster than feet. Suddenly, lots of litter was blown away. The typhoon blew up.
We couldn’t hold the umbrella. It was raining heavily and we were all wet. Cold and fright went through our bodies. The big trees began to shake. Leaves fell down. We couldn’t breathe. The wind blew in our face.
It was so sharp. I was afraid I would be blown away, too. I held my mother tightly. We tried our best to run. But we couldn’t.
I was excited because we were near our home. A few minutes later, we arrived home. “I am still alive,” I said to myself happily. I saw the big typhoon through the window. “How strong the typhoon is! I want to be strong, too.”
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