tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41713035386144925412012-02-16T18:45:38.040-08:00Blogmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10043890653159419861noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4171303538614492541.post-59221410013039291892008-05-29T11:24:00.000-07:002008-05-29T11:27:56.568-07:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wkR6Vh5gtkM/SD71jBpfcJI/AAAAAAAAABo/HkpXNvteYYw/s1600-h/windowmorrocco.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205868201373560978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wkR6Vh5gtkM/SD71jBpfcJI/AAAAAAAAABo/HkpXNvteYYw/s320/windowmorrocco.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">When I look out of the window I see a small street in a village in Morocco. There are some blue houses and a shop with pretty things I can buy. There is a boy from the village walking in the street. The street is very small and cars can't drive there.</span><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;">(Marisol,12)</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4171303538614492541-5922141001303929189?l=lookingoutofthewindow.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Blogmasterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10043890653159419861noreply@blogger.com9