Postcards always spoil my holidays. Last summer,I went to Italy and sat in public gardens. A friendly waiter taught me a few words of Italian, then he lent me a book , I read a few lines.but I did not understand .Everyday I thought about postcards. Holidays passed quickly,but I did not sent  cards to my friends. On the last day,I made a big discion,I got up early and bought thirty-seven postcards. I spent the whole day in my room,but I did not write a single card.