BREAKFAST OR LUNCH
It was Sunday. I never get up
early on Sundays. I sometimes stay in bed until lunch time. Last Sunday I got
up very late. I looked out of the window. It was dark outside. “What a day!” I
thought. “It is raining again”, just then, the telephone rang. It was my aunt
Lucy. “I have just arrived by train, “she said. “I am coming to see you.”
“But I am still having
breakfast,” I sad.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I am having breakfast,” I
repeated.
“Dear me,” she said. “Do you
always get up so late? It is one o’clock!”