Кто-нибудь, проверьте, пожалуйста,
грамматику, орфографию и пунктуацию.
The pendulum on the grandfather’s clock wobbled left and right. The full moon shined in the dark sky. He always kept curtain down so light could not get to his room. It was dark, and it was time to go to the kitchen and to eat something.
He slipped out of the room trying to make as least noise as it was possible. A corridor. It led to The Dark. He never tried to pass it all. He never knew what was at the end. Somehow he knew that it had no end at all. So, he thought that the corridor kept something horrible and abominable from the others.
The kitchen was here. Or here. Behind one of these doors. Last night it was on the same side as his room. But today it could be different. In the last week, he remembered, it was precisely next to his door on the other side of the corridor.
He draw a cross by a red crayon on the door of his room. This sign would help him to find it on the way back. He looked around. The dark was thick and dense. The doors to the rooms were on both sides of the corridor, and the dark like a fog was anywhere. Stingy walls and dirty doors. It was very easy to lost there.
He started to check the doors. He opened the first. Wooden floor, a broken window, and a closet. The kitchen was not there.
The second door. He opened it, and found a room without any windows but with a lot of pictures on the walls. Not only on the walls. They were on the marble floor, on the bookshelves and even on the ceiling. How could that room be here? It was after fifty doors when he saw it last night.
The next door was shaking and it had scratches on it. It looked like some creature tried to get out of the room and torn door with the paw seeped underneath it. Several dark spots were on the floor. He could not see their colour because of the dark. Maybe it was blood. He didn’t dare to check that room.
The fifth door. He looked carefully. It was clean. Ok. He took the handle and tried it. The door creaked and opened. The big window filled the entire wall. It was opened and the wind blew from it. He looked into the window. The big elm tree grew there. The tree was almost bare. All the room and the ground outside the room was strewn with leaves. He stepped into the room and looked around. A shell of a big turtle, a cane, a looking glass, a chest, a rack with some strange coats and hats, and above all a big skull of a big bull. It was raining. It was storm. Thunderbolts stroke every minute and lit the entire room. It was cold. He smelled clay and rotten leaves.
The sixth door. Where was the kitchen? He had to find it and ate his meals before the sunrise. Books, bookshelves, and papers were everywhere. New, old, opened and closed. The books laid even on the floor.