The clock was a rhythmic executioner: tick, tick, tick. If he didn't solve the exercise on complex sentences, his weekend of video games was forfeit.
Anton froze. The GDZ hadn't given him the "why," only the "what." He looked at the textbook cover—the familiar green and white design. He realized then that the GDZ was like a map with no landmarks; he knew where he was, but he was completely lost. The clock was a rhythmic executioner: tick, tick, tick
"Anton," she said, tapping his notebook. "This is perfect. Too perfect. Even Trostentsova herself might have tripped over this particular participle." The GDZ hadn't given him the "why," only the "what
Anton’s heart hammered. But then, she smiled. "However, since you 'worked so hard' on this, why don't you explain the rule for the alternating vowels in the roots –ros– and –rast– to the class?" "This is perfect