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She could sense the beauty in front of her. The salty sea air filled her lungs and sat on her dry lips. The sea gulls flapped their snow-white wings tiredly over her head. The sight of the waves rising and falling against the heated sand engulfed her. She loved the wave the sun’s rays fell on her face. The vibrant orange shell near her feet caused a smile to flash across her face. Each individual grain of sand tickled her tender toes. The sound of the water crashing onto shore washed away her worries. She wanted desperately to plunge into the aquatic wonderland and explore its depths. The oceanic life had always intrigued her.
“Come on Amy,” a familiar voice bellowed in an obviously irritated tone. “You’re going to get left if you don’t mind me,” the voice croaked now suddenly close enough to recognize the mushroom and feet smell of her 8th grade Art teacher. Amy was suddenly snatched away from her fantasy by the harsh voice of Mrs. Ridick. Amy apologized and departed from the intricate depiction of a far off beach. She dashed to catch up with the rest of the class as they traveled through a local art gallery.
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