Tekst 1.
On the morning of the most earth-shattering day of his life, Rayquan McMillian ordered breakfast. In the shower he’d lost track of time, caught up in playing the violin concerto in his mind, while water ran down his back for ten minutes. When he walked out of the bathroom, he saw the breakfast tray waiting on the table. “I didn’t even hear room service come in,” he said. Nicole was curled up in one of the armchairs, watching the news. “You never hear anything,” she said, not looking away from the TV. “We need to be out of here within an hour, and you still haven’t finished packing.”
After a hurried breakfast, he mindlessly packed his suitcase and pulled up the handle of his roller bag. He picked up the violin case and gestured for Nicole to go first with her two roller bags. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing the suite – and what remained – inside.
Checking out, he tipped the doorman, who called a taxi for each of them. Nicole was going to the train station, so he lifted her suitcases into the open trunk, leaving his own bag on the sidewalk, the violin case hanging on his shoulder. Nicole turned to him. “I meant to tell you,” she said, “when you’re playing the Mozart, just try taking it maybe a tiny bit slower, all right? And remember that you’ve got this. Rayquan McMillian, future violin competition gold medalist. Visualize it. It’s going to happen. I’m sure of it. And call me when you get in.” She jumped onto the back seat, the door closed and he stood there as the taxi moved off into the traffic.
Then his taxi rolled up and, as he was spilling into the back seat with the violin case, he grew more and more uneasy. He wanted to be back home. That morning he hadn’t practised, so he couldn’t wait to pick up his violin and assure himself that he could really make Mozart’s voice his own. Only one month left until the competition: the world’s most prestigious, most difficult classical music competition – judged by the top musicians in the world. Even if he practised every day, fourteen hours a day, he didn’t think he’d be ready. He wished he didn’t have to waste time flying home.
At the airport, he decided to use the fast check-in. If only he had gone through regular security! Why had he been in such a hurry? He should have waited in the long queue. If he’d waited, the officer might have randomly pulled his suitcase aside or asked him to open the violin case. Someone would have noticed or asked. It was security, after all. Instead, he placed the roller bag on the conveyor belt, violin case behind it, and they sailed through the X-ray while he sailed through the body scan. When he returned home, he lay down on his bed for half an hour, violin case on the floor next to him, where he always set it. Getting focused, ready to play.
It was just after 2 p.m. when he kicked himself off the bed. He stood up, picked up the violin case, and set it on his desk. He flicked open the left clasp, then the right, and lifted the lid. Instead of his violin, inside sat a white tennis shoe.
Na podstawie: Brendan Slocumb, The Violin Conspiracy, London 2022.
W zadaniach 6.1.–6.4. z podanych odpowiedzi wybierz właściwą, zgodną z treścią
tekstu. 
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