Recount Text

Ahmad Nab’al Falah – E8 - 01

Recount text is one type of text in English that contains the story of an action or activity of
the author or the characters in the story. The activity or action in question is the experience
of the author expressed through recount text, usually the purpose of recount text is to
entertain the reader, as well as provide information.

Personal Recount

My Bad Day

Doni scrimped and paid for a trip around the world that lasted two
months. In his diary, he detailed his journey. I travelled to London and
spent several weeks in Europe after spending a week in New York. I
took a train to Istanbul and visited several locations in Asia after seeing
the sights in Europe. First, I flew from Mexico City to New York City,
where he lives. After travelling across Asia, I travelled to South
America before returning to Indonesia. Doni was weary, but he was
ecstatic to be on the road again.

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Imaginative

Cowboy’s Pride

Today was a particularly hectic day. Thankfully, Rose was at home to

assist me in washing dishes, making quince jelly, and caring for our
newest family member, the boy. This was yet another ordinary day.
Jean came in after we completed our chores and began enjoying the
dinner we had just prepared. Rose was tending to the child. A heavy
knock came at the entrance. I sat there waiting for Jean or Rose to pass.
Jean sprang from his seat, knife and fork both clutched in his hands.
 “Can’t a guy eat in peace?” he exclaimed. “I’ve come to arrest you Mr.
Jean Clarkson for horse stealing,” a deep voice said when Jean opened
the bell. I stood there watching Jean finish his last bite of dinner. He
then told me that he was about to be arrested. If there was no subpoena,
I informed him he didn’t have to go. I screamed at him, telling him he
shouldn’t have let him in. Jean confidently said, “It’s all right, Mum,”
in an attempt to quiet me down. 
 

The bread was taken out of the oven by me. Jean ate the rest of his food
from his bowl with a large slice of thick bread. Constable Fitzgerald
was standing nearby. ‘I’ll just go grab my jacket!” Jean said. I chased
after Jean, shouting at him for letting him in when he shouldn’t have.
Rose’s screams could be heard. I dashed back to see what had
happened. Fitzgerald was bullying her, she explained. I charged into
the kitchen, grabbed the shovel, and smacked him in the face. Jean
dashed back into the room and tackled him to the ground. Cathy was
right there when the door swung open. Cathy entered the room and
took Fitzgerald’s rifle. Fitzgerald was shot in the wrist by the revolver.
“Touch our sister again, and there will be a bullet in your head,” both
boys said as they stood there. My sons made me proud when they stood
up for their sister.

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