|The Beach (standard:non fiction, 498 words)|
|Author: Ashley G||Added: Mar 20 2002||Views/Reads: 1770/1||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A personal experience piece I wrote for Writing 105, I think teenagers would enjoy it because my classmates did. It reflects how a simple experience like going to the beach can mean so much more if you have a good time.|
My summer largely consisted of barbecues, swimming, and friends at the beach. It was my favorite place to unwind and be myself. I spent the most peaceful, relaxing day there in early August with my friend Rob. Since he is more carefree than I am, I tried to follow his laidback habits. “I hate to leave the shade,” I complained when we first arrived. “Don't you ever want to go in the water?” Rob asked with a teasing smile. So I reluctantly emerged from the breezy picnic area. The sand burned our bare feet when we raced across on our toes. The cold water was a relief when I finally made my way past the painful, sharp stones near the shore. After slowly trudging through low water that felt heavy against my legs, I lifted the rope to go into the deep end just as Rob tried to step over it. “You don't have to show off just because you're taller than I am,” I said, pretending to be angry. “Ashley, don't you think the water is too deep for you? It's already up to your neck,” he shot back. After we finished laughing, it took a few minutes to adjust to the background noise. My ears were ringing from the shouts and laughter all around. The lifeguard called out, “how old are you?” to each child who looked younger than eleven. “At least he didn't think we were that young,” I commented. “Maybe you look like a little kid, but I don't,” he teased. I couldn't think of a retort because I was shivering too much. “Are you cold or something?” Rob asked. “No,” I responded quickly. “Are you?” “Well...yes,” he admitted through blue lips and chattering teeth. As we headed toward the shore, I dreaded the rush of cold air I would feel after leaving the chilly waves. The table that held our towels looked so far away. I wanted to bury myself in the scorching sand beneath my feet. We quickly decided to work on our tans and lay in the warm sun. “I think you're the little kid,” I giggled when I saw his pink batman towel. He sheepishly turned it over to face the sand so no one else would see it. We rested in silence for awhile. We were so close I thought I could smell what was left of his cologne over the mix of sand, water, suntan lotion, french fries and other beach smells. “Don't let me fall asleep,” I warned, my eyes half closed. “Hopefully we won't both fall asleep and burn,” he murmured. I had to squint and shade my eyes to look at him. My eyes watered, the tears mixing with sand and sweat to blur my sight. My hair felt damp and heavy on my neck. The sand stuck to my sweating arms. I knew we wouldn't stay in the sun long, but I hoped the day at the beach could last a few more hours. Tweet
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