Add the missing speech marks-There was a booming knock at the door and a loud shout. Open up!
From inside came the little rattle and the door opened barely half inch.
A dishevelled and clearly shaken, peered through hesitantly. Can I help you? Detective Stirland loomed large before her. He flipped open his ID badge.
Where's Joe, Mary?
What's this about? She stammered
Stirland applied his weight to the door and the women stepped backwards as it swung open. I'll ask questions. We he's here.
Her eyes flitted from his face to the lounge door and back. Joe! She folded her arms defiantly, reluctantly. Joe, you'd better come out. The police are here.
Outline the complex sentence-The thing I like least about the weekend is Sunday evening. It's the furthest point away from Friday, but it's also the closest point to yet another Monday morning, I'd give anything to win the lottery. It'd save me from yet another commute to work, battling through the honking traffic and stinking fumes. According to the Medical Gazette, fighting through the rush hour causes excess stress hormones to build up in your blood stream. Over time, all that damage takes years off your life. For me, that's yet another good reason the snooze button and slide back under the duvet. It's only Sunday morning after all.