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A Day At The Beach
I run down the boardwalk, not worrying about getting splinters in my
tender feet. Every ten or fifteen feet I stop, sometimes to smell the salty
sea air, but mostly to wait for my parents who plod along behind carrying
chairs, coolers, and other beach paraphernalia. I yell back to them to hurry,
and they reply that I can run ahead and find a good spot. I yelp with glee and
run as fast as my little legs will carry me. I stop where the dark, brown of
the boardwalk meets the light, white of the beach. My dad warned me about how
hot the sand can get. I cautiously take a step forward testing the sand, OUCH,
he was right. What am I gonna do now, in my six year old eyes the water seems
to be a mile away. Again I look out to the ocean which seems to stretch for
days in all directions. I am determined to reach it, no matter what sacrifices
I must make. I step forward again testing the sand, still white hot. I pull
my courage from the corners of my being and make a run for it. This isn\'t so
bad if I run really fast. The wind blows in my face, bringing with it that
smell, almost a taste of the ocean. It seems to be a combination of fish, salt,
people, and water all mixed into one. I continue to run until I reach the
water\'s edge where the waves crash upon the beach, making the white sand brown
and hard. I sit down on the sand, panting after my enormous effort. Something
troubling pulls at the edge of my mind, but I ignore it. A wave rolls up to
the beach, crashing around me, wetting me hot body. I dig my body into the
moistened ground, covering my legs and arms with the cool, wet sand. I hear my
mom calling to me to come up to the umbrella. I turn back to look at her, as I
do so the little thing at the edge of my mind suddenly dawns on me. I made it
out to the water, now I must make my way back.
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