Personal Writing: The Holiday Trip Sweltering heats fill the room, a hot sticky breeze drifts by my face. Broom Broom Broom its the posties bike coming to a halt beside our old white mailbox. He adds a few letters in the mailbox and speeds off to the next house. Racing outside in anticipation, my heart suddenly sinks discovering its only a Telstra bill. I hate when the phone bill arrives, mum always gives me a big lecture about all my calls. I knew there was going to be trouble, remembering about all my international calls to my penfriend Sofie in Sweden. Anyway the reason for all this excitement is