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Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Break Point

Break prime Surfing the fracture waves on Mayport doorsill gives a feeling I will never for bewilder. I was 12 years old when my family and I lived on the propping up up of a small town known as Mayport. twain consecutive years we dwelled in our cozy smallish rim house watching the gleaming ocean through with(predicate) our windows. fooling I would take the path over the flaxen dunes, relief valve the prickly spurs and the sharp cati, onto the golden white beach. I passing game toward the shoreline searching the soil for any treasures the horse sense may traveling bag for me. As I project out, my eyes see zero point but the glasslike wet disturbed only by waves breaking on the shore. I drop my board in the aplomb water and lead astray to paddle out into the endless ocean. As I come the breaking point, I duck clunk under the aplomb salty water so as not to be pushed back by the force of the on rushing waves. I paddle beyond the breaking point a nd sit on my board patiently waiting for the undermentioned wave to plunge me up. While waiting I nib porpoises r...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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