Relier Pairs Show, don't tell - visualVersion en ligne Authors use description, action and dialogue to show you what places and people are like. Match the statements to either a bit of dialogue, something that is happening, or a description of a person, animal or place. par Ruth North 1 The woman looked strange and unusual. 2 The smell was awful. 3 The students were bored. 4 The new planet was desolate and empty. 5 The roses were pretty. 6 The bus was very late indeed. 7 She was very angry. 8 The building was falling apart. 9 He was really, really tall. 10 The cat was cute and friendly. 11 He was an indecisive man. 12 They didn’t get on. Tim gasped as he scraped his head on the doorframe for the umpteenth time. Lush pink and white festooned themselves around the cottage door, crowning it like a headdress or garland. Occasional petals fell to the path, blowing in the wind in a festive shower of botanical confetti. Mog wrapped herself around my ankles as I walked into the kitchen, miaowing like the kitten she had once been and rubbing her head on my shins. “Damnit!” she screamed, pounding the desk with her fists. Her face was red and contorted as she continued to rage. “This simply isn’t good enough! I want to see your manager – now!”. Marv sighed and glanced up yet again at the timetable. The old lady sitting next to him tutted in silent, sympathetic agreement and went back to her knitting. She had already done one sleeve and was starting on the next one. “Well, I think it’s very nice”, said Anne. “Oh, you would say that,” snapped Tessa. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” demanded Anne, icily. “You know exactly what I mean”, responded Tessa. “Oh no, I don’t think I do. Why don’t you come over here and tell me?” Anne’s nostrils flared with irritation. “Watch out for that floorboard, Del!” “Thanks! What’s this stuff on the wall?” “I think that is the wall, love”. “Oh my days. How long was it standing empty like this?” “I don’t care. I love it and I’m going to make it into a palace for us, my darling.” The clock ticked in the dusty, warm room. At the far end, seemingly oblivious to the students’ torpor, the teacher droned on and on. A bluebottle similarly buzzed monotonously and an aeroplane contributed a distant, lonely roar. Now and them a stifled yawn punctuated the suffocating stillness, but otherwise nothing interrupted Mrs Jackson’s interminable intonation. Her hat was squashed and, at first sight, impossible to define. It could once have been a fedora; on the other hand, it could also have been an old cardboard box that had been left out in the rain. Badges, brooches and buttons glittered all over her tattered coat and her feet were encased in mismatched men’s army boots. Iqbal hung over the display of chocolate bars. “Ooh, Bounty, lovely,” he murmured. “On the other hand, I do like a Snickers. Or a Mars Bar.”. “Hurry up, mate”, said the shopkeeper. “I don’t know, I just don’t know”, Iqbal dithered. Veronica gagged as the foul stench hit her. Her eyes watered and she clapped her hand to her mouth. The icy wind howled across the alien plain. Nothing disturbed the view, no interesting crags, no stunted trees, no buildings. There was no sign that anyone, or anything, had ever lived there.
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