Do you have a text that just doesn’t seem to flow easily?
Do you want a book review (or any other literature review) written for you?
Do you want someone to write your projects, or to manage your blogs?
…If you nodded to any of these questions, you’re in the right place.
Hi, I’m The Literati (pen name: A.W.), and I’m here to help you out with everything that involves the use of writing or reading. If you don’t have enough time to proofread all the work you turn in, why not get it done by someone who’d love to do it? Hint: Me.
Without further ado, have a look at my work samples below, and if you seem to be happy with the work, then hit the subscribe button, and e-mail your task details to me right away! We will discuss further details over e-mail, or whichever method of communication you’re comfortable with.
[Note: The original text above was taken from http://www.proofreadanywhere.com. The text under that is after I proofread it.]
An extract from a research assignment:
“The purpose of visiting specifically Edhi Mental Ward for Women for investigating about our research topic, was to find the worst cases of what happens to women in our society so commonly. Our research proves that people go as far as declaring their mothers, sisters, daughters, and wives ‘mentally sick’, merely because they themselves have an extremely low tolerance level. It is understandable for actually dangerous patients to be admitted to mental wards, but patients who are not risky or are not even
mentally ill at all are put into that ward, and that explains that if the family values have deteriorated to such an extent, women of Pakistan are only used as facilitators of life.
A woman dies giving fragrance to bloom relations with love, but the society crushes her petals as soon as she loses her fragrance. She empties herself out for her family, and that very family, as soon as they have gained all that they could gain from her, leave her empty-handed in a mental ward, where she spends the rest of her life hoping they would come take her back, but they never do. They never will. It broke my heart when an aged woman cried in my arms as she told me that she wants to go home back to her son and daughter. That mother, left all alone by her children, still could not hate them. She still
plead for their arrival as lovingly as any mother would. There, she lay in bed, sick and crippled, in a mental ward’s bed awaiting her children – the very children who left their mother because they were ‘too busy’ to take care of the ‘burden’ that mother had become.
In that ward, I experienced being part of a different world. The love of those women was genuine. They were thankful that we had gone to see them, and they told us over and over to come visit them again soon. Many older aunts gave us prayers as we bid them farewell. They did not know who we were in the real world, but they loved us for being there in their world for two hours.”