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I would like to tell you what happened to my uncle Oscar, or I would rather try to understand it and explain it to you. My uncle Oscar was a very nice
man. Every morning on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday he usually took the seven-forty-five (7.45) bus and started for work. He went to the bank early in the morning as he was an accountant (and by the way, a very good one). He worked hard all day long and returned home rather late. My uncle was forty-seven years old, married and had two children. His wife’s name was Agatha. Aunt Agatha was fond of talking and always talked too much and in a very loud voice. That’s why I think Uncle Oscar seldom had much to say. Their two children, Elizabeth and Julian, were not very pleasant. Both of them were large and loud like their mother. And they were selfish and greedy too. They didn’t think about their father much. He was a little quiet man, who spoke little and went about unnoticed. He liked music but didn’t play any musical instrument. He practically never went to the theatre or to the cinema and he didn’t visit exhibitions or museums either.