Beach Creative Writing

I stop, remembering my mother warning me not to get in the car with strangers who offer you candy... She never said anything about getting in the car with cute guys who offer you coffee. Reluctantly, I follow him to his black charger and direct him to my house.

In the final hours of 2015. The suns reflection danced on the ocean’s waves, just before the radiant sun slowly began to vanish behind the ocean line, after finishing it’s day’s work. The skies began to fill with the different shades of pink, orange and red, and with every breath I took, I could taste the subtle salts from the ocean that I walk beside. The apathetic sea breeze inexplicably manages to tangle every strand of my hair. I heard the whispering and faint waves toppling onto it’s self. My friends and I walked towards the bridge, like turtles racing, eager to get to the end but still slower than time.

As I drive up the slight slope of a hill, I stare in wonder at the fresh snowfall on the ground and trees. On the short walk to the lake, I look at all of the ice crystals glistening from the glares of the sun. Families surround me, and all I hear are kids giggling. As I get

The temperature was falling fast. It’s windy. There was snow in the rain that was splatting against the windows of the houses. The roads were as empty as those on Sunday mornings. Jacquen was going home in a car along with his parents. his father was driving the car very recklessly for the weather was getting worse and he had to catch a flight to Los Angeles the next morning. suddenly his father saw a wagon approaching them like a monstrous beast . His father slammed on the brake to avoid crashing into the wagon but the road was slippery. a sudden panic rushed into the car. they were blinded by the headlight from the wagon and the car continued to slip and finally barged into the

You live about two hours away from King Street. I'm pretty sure that you have traveled to Myrtle Beach South Carolina by traveling Highway 378, if so what's your exit out of Sumter there was a sign off the road that says 36 miles to King Street. My oldest daughter attends Allen University in Columbia. What kind of degree are you working towards? How long have you been taking class at APU/ AMU? Thank you for your service in the military, what branch and how long did you serve? I wish you well and I look forward to working with you.

Our horses sprinted to keep up. The wind whistled in my ears, and the buckles on the horse’s bridles rang shrill. I felt the quick heave and surge as Snowflake left the plain and struggled up the rocky path. We were climbing the steep, slippery slope.

“Strong willed, the leader” Claudius’s mind seemed somewhere else, and I snapped my fingers near his face. He stared blankly at me as if he forgot we were walking. “I’m not done showing you around”

“Aren’t you excited to go to Baybeach tomorrow?!” my best friend, Tia, screamed through the phone.

The GPS turned her east off the highway, and she considered turning back to town. The snowdrifts made the vehicle difficult to steer, even with four-wheel drive, but the road led her straight to Mrs. Watson’s driveway.

I stand and turn in an unsteady circle, trying to orientate myself. The mist surrounds me and the waves surge and retreat, hissing and scraping like a reptile dragging its scales over the rocks. I don’t know it the tide is coming in or going out. I force myself to breath slowly and the beach comes into focus; sand and shingle dotted with rocks and dark clumps of seaweed. There’s a row of streetlights high above the beach. They look familiar, and I walk toward them until I stumble into the base of a wall leading up to the road. I run my hands over it. It’s uneven and slippery with lichen, and too high to climb. I want to give in, to sleep it off and wake up to how life was before. My eyelids are heavy, and my head droops toward my chest.

The waves were ruthless, piercing the boats wall moment after moment with as it continued on its treacherous journey across the ocean. The small boat was fighting its way across the water. Lightning hit the horizon again and again, lighting up the sky as if it were daytime. The storm was never ending, like it was spellbound to sink the boat. Yet, the night storm went on, and into the painfully slow night.

The last of the snow has slowly melted away, along with everyone’s puffy coats and holiday spirit. Although this morning began quite nippy, any chill disappears as the sun rises higher in the sky. Today, I watch the small town awake and begin it’s normal early-morning bustle.

After two hours had gone by, the gray sky had begun to turn black. My best friend Kelly looked at her phone, it was almost 9:30. We would have to hurry to get home by ten. Besides, houses were becoming further and further apart. We were out of the familiar subdivision. In fact, I wasn't exactly sure on how to get back home. We all had goosebumps on our arms because the wind had begun to pick up. I looked at my other two friends Elizabeth and Kristen, they were both shivering. I had to make a decision. Taking a shortcut through a small path in through the dark woods. Taking Eagle View road all the way back to my house would take at least 45 minutes, and my mom would not be happy.

The day had started out as any would usually go. It was so cold outside that I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes. My ears were full of the complaining wind that wished I wasn’t there. I walked up to the school doors feeling drowsy from last night’s sleep.

Today, as I pull up to the farmhouse and jump out of my car, my feet hit the dusty gravel. Suddenly I am one with the farm, planted firmly like the roots of the great willow tree next to the old victorian house that somehow is still standing. I begin the blissfully long walk down the dirt path that leads to the farm, each step becoming more sure than the last. The crunch of gravel then the soft thuds of the dirt path reverberate through my soul. I breathe in deeply, the freshness of pure nature greeting me like an old friend. Looking up from my