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The Beach (standard:non fiction, 498 words)
Author: Ashley GAdded: Mar 20 2002Views/Reads: 1811/1Story 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. 


   


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