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Postcards always spoil my holidays. Last
summer, I went to Italy. I visited
museums and sat in public gardens. A
friendly waiter taught me a few words of
Italian. 'Then he lent me a book. I read
is few lines, but I did not understand a
word. Every day I thought about post-
cards. My holidays passed quickly, but I
did not send any cards to my friends. On
the last day I made a big decision. I got
up early and bought thirty-seven cards
I spent the whole day in my room, but I
did not write a single card !
