distant horizon. Crashing against the shore‚ small waves wash the night’s debris onto the land. Untouched golden sand covers the floor as far as your eyes can see. Soothing‚ a gentle sea breeze rustles through your hair. Beach shops prepare for their day of excited costumers bustling in and out of their small seafront shops. Opening their doors‚ they bring out all of there beach products looking out to the sea you can see the large cruise ships on the worlds edge. Abandoned‚ nothing there apart
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arms and legs tingled with the thought of a shark attacking me‚ like on T.V. I shiver involuntarily‚ and bit my chipped nails. The day had started out like any summer day going to the beach. My family was hustling to get our beach bags in order to get in before the rush our. I was ready 30 minutes ago‚ but waited for my family‚ nevertheless. It was a pleasant day‚ the perfect weather‚ to go to the beach. I went back to where our beach towels were laid out. I wanted to wait until it got a little
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luminescent street light overhead hardly reaches him. Given the time of night‚ light comes from above leaving his face to look unequivocally gray. Silently‚ he stands for a moment; his eyes tracking each car that passes with minimal interest. The summer before last
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plaid shirt across my brow‚ to wipe away the sweat. I grabbed the final bale off the last hay rack of the day and threw it over the side‚ towards where my brothers were standing. I peel the wet plaid shirt off my arms and back. I flip it around till I find a dry spot on the shirt‚ which I then use to wipe the sweat from my face. I pull it away and look at it. It was stained with a long‚ hot‚ day’s
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In the distance the mountains rose above the earth and stretched into the clouds‚ reaching for the heavens. Every day we would hike along a different trail‚ each one unique in its own way. There was one that was a bit barren along the way‚ but at the end there was a colossal sand dune that stretched from the top a cliff to the river below. People would climb up the
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rolling it’s way down Robbie’s cheek onto the presumably silk covered pillows (only the best kind of fabrics for the number one villain‚ right?) Oh what one wouldn’t give to press their own fleshy labium to his own‚ trapping themselves in a cage of hot breath and sweaty dreams. With his face relaxed and brow un-knotted‚ most would come to the conclusion that the aforementioned
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breathing over a pot of boiling water. Within minutes of arriving‚ the sky opened up and it started to rain. This was not Washington’s rain; this rain felt like turning over your pillow onto the cold side. The rain was the perfect complement to the hot air and I did not feel the need to open up an umbrella. It felt good to feel the heavy droplets on my shoulder‚ like a cold shower. The welcoming rain continued for the rest of the trip. As soon as we got to our hotel room‚ I rushed to put on my swimsuit
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strangers online? Everyone may be confronted by a large group of people‚ who have completely different opinions about a certain problem‚ and whether the minority holds the truth or not‚ they are always beaten by the majority. In the story of “all summer in a day” written by Ray Bradbury‚ the conflict between those two groups is nicely showed------ Margot is confronted by a group of people who believe that they hold the truth and then punish Margot who is really the truth teller. The story happens in
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Rigid cement was about to melt down‚ animals stayed underground and people began sweltering as if they were the farmers below the fierce sun. Smoothly‚ the breeze danced over the resting people sitting on the wooden wall nearby Hudson River. The day was quiet as the grave to a wonder. The clear blue sky contrasted itself from dark‚ filthy smoke trying to push itself away from the active city. Adhesive sweat stuck into his indigo shirt and bulky footgear fastened the heat that wants to escape
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can feel the weight of my pads. The sweat on the cushions‚ and how they seem to cool my chest and my back. This wet feeling would usually be uncomfortable‚ but in this moment being uncomfortable doesn’t matter. I can smell aroma of the burgers and hot dogs being sold just outside the stadium. The smell would usually trigger some kind of hunger in my stomach‚ but in this moment my stomach doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is my mind and my muscles‚ and beating Westwood. I can hear the fans
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