In the Barrel

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I climb up to the wave’s glossy crest, my ankles and lower legs entwined in the sweet pull of it’s wispy, ghost-like fingers. I’m perched at the plateau’s lustrous, frothy top, poised to either pull off or descend the smooth, inviting curve of the wave’s face. I gather my feet and pull back, propelling myself forward with one smooth, powerful kick. I’m surprised by how easily I slide into the rail’s slick groove – I barely have to push onmy board – and I can almost hear my rails click as I follow its path. I carve in a cloud of blissful water and fade away. The board seeps into my fingers and up to my brain, faithfully obeying my every thought along the endless water. I am a mermaid in an emerald sea, blessed to explore its beauty. I speed up and slow down, turning on the crisp face as it catches the yellow sun, emulating its golden rays. The waves becomes iridescent as it barrels gracefully over my head.  I am enclosed in a golden shell, where the air is cool and salty to the taste. I crash right past its clutches, escaping the gorgeous barrel’s ugly finale. Instead, I careen forward, bouncing and sliding up to the sand on my board’s slick belly. My eyes are bright and my lips curved in a stupid, permanent smile, my mind free ofworry and my conscience clear. I roll onto the warm bath of the damp sand, warmed and baked in the day’s sunlight. I look up at a crisp blue sky, stretching forever suspended above the salty water. I smile and close my eyes, and feel my body melt into the sand

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