A cold winter morning

Length: 4 Pages 996 Words

A Cold Winter Morning I am lying on a white, sandy beach with the blazing sun beating down directly on my bronzed summer body. I notice the attractive, Puerto Rican Cabana boy heading over to refill my newly empty Margarita glass. I look around my private beach and at the crystal clear, sparkling ocean water inviting me warmly in to its open arms. I get up from my comfortable bed on the sand, walking slowly to the water. The sand is burning my bare feet with such intensity that I speed my walk up almost into a jog. As I reach the waterfront I stop, as a tumbling wave is heading toward my glazing body; I step closer to be in its direct path. I glide in with such grace, I prepare myself for the cool, refreshing bath. I hear a siren screaming, I look around in a panic as it is hurting my ears and giving me an intense headache. My beach is drifting away, then it is gone. The warmth my body feels is gone. I open my eyes; I am in my dark, lifeless room. My alarm clock is going off and the sound can only be compared with dragging your fingernails across a chalkboard. I turn it off. My sunny beach has been push out of my thoughts and replaced with a chill that penetrates straight to the bone. I would pay one hundred dollars to just get Continue...


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The world is yet again a wonderful place. I look for my slippers and rope, hoping to find some way to protect my delicate body from the frosty air dancing around me. I continue to drink, such warmth and joy from such a simple cup of coffee. I hear noise as my sister is in the bathroom and starting her shower. I am thankful I am the first awake, and hoping I am gone before the icy surprise rains down on the next unknowing sleep zombie. I look though my clothes notice my stylish shirts screaming to wear them, but I choose the sweatshirt, a more practical choose that I am sure to appreciate later. I think of all I have to do this wintry day, it is too much for me and I shut my eyes. I look around the dark lifeless shapes I had looked past have turned into my newly remodeled bathroom. A fresh blanket of snow had fallen over the night. My house is now sympatric to me, delivering me scolding hot water. My stride quickens, turning in to a full out run, as I do not want to be caught as the thief of the hot water. My shoes are now on and my backpack is on my back. I turn to the shower; pull back the plastic curtain, revealing the shower. I take my first sip of my breakfast, it scolds the roof of my mouth, and I flinch in pain.

PROFESSIONAL ESSAYS:

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