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Practice and improve writing style. Write like Ernest Hemingway

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Practice and improve your writing style below

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'He's got a lot coming to him/ the negro said. He was unwrapping a package by the fire.

 

Mr. Wheeler watched her go out, then come in with the wine and bring it to his table. He looked toward the clock.

 

Then the music started up again and he jumped up and twisted away from me and started dancing. I grabbed his arm and he pulled loose and said, Oh leave me alone. You're not my father.

 

'Rye/ the man said. The bartender put out the bottle and glass and a glass of water.

 

For some time as he walked Nick had been in sight of one of the big islands of pine standing out above the rolling high ground he was crossing. He dipped down and then as he came slowly up to the crest of the ridge he turned and made toward the pine trees.

 

'But many people without money shoot in the Veneto.'

 

'You can think about it,' the Colonel said. 'I'm talking true.'

 

'Then don't strain,' the Colonel said, 'and you will never get piles.'

 

I'm going to get that sullen character in now and pick up and get the hell to the farm house or the lodge, I suppose that I should call it. The shooting's over.

 

Nobody would give you a penny for your thoughts, he thought. Not this morning. But I've seen them worth a certain amount of money when the chips were down.

 

“He’s probably waiting just outside the door now.”

 

After lunch I went up to my room, read a while, and went to sleep. When I woke it was half past four. I found my swimming-suit, wrapped it with a comb in a towel, and went down-stairs and walked up the street to the Concha. The tide was about half-way out. The beach was smooth and firm, and the sand yellow. I went into a bathing-cabin, undressed, put on my suit, and walked across the smooth sand to the sea. The sand was warm under bare feet. There were quite a few people in the water and on the beach. Out beyond where the headlands of the Concha almost met to form the harbor there was a white line of breakers and the open sea. Although the tide was going out, there were a few slow rollers. They came in like undulations in the water, gathered weight of water, and then broke smoothly on the warm sand. I waded out. The water was cold. As a roller came I dove, swam out under water, and came to the surface with all the chill gone. I swam out to the raft, pulled myself up, and lay on the hot planks. A boy and girl were at the other end. The girl had undone the top strap of her bathing-suit and was browning her back. The boy lay face downward on the raft and talked to her. She laughed at things he said, and turned her brown back in the sun. I lay on the raft in the sun until I was dry. Then I tried several dives. I dove deep once, swimming down to the bottom. I swam with my eyes open and it was green and dark. The raft made a dark shadow. I came out of water beside the raft, pulled up, dove once more, holding it for length, and then swam ashore. I lay on the beach until I was dry, then went into the bathing-cabin, took off my suit, sloshed myself with fresh water, and rubbed dry.

 

“I’m a little nervy about it,” Brett said. “I’m worried whether I’ll be able to go through with it all right.”

 

“Where did Cohn go after he hit me?” I asked Bill.

 

“How should we know,” Bill said. “I think he’s dead.”

 

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