Room 4
5 Senses Of Surfing
I hear the blood curdling screams of Miss Oldham stepping on a crab
As I devour my fries I taste the perfectly salted chip
When I take a big sniff I get the horrible smell of dead fish wofting up my nose
I sit down on my board I feel the currents rush past my saturated feet
As I look out towards the horizons I see the vicious waves rushing towards the rocks
Surf Day
Observing the massive sheet of crystal salt water waiting for a perfect moment to catch a wave of salt.
Tumbling off my little boogie board scratching furiously on the surface of the hot and shelly sand, pain slowly sailing down my arm and my leg, the pain has won.
The smell of fresh NZ fish & chips sails through my nose as I glance at the perfect salty chip.
I feel blood pumping as I fight against the ocean to victory, my lungs gasping for breath, I think it is over for me.
As I
relax on my board my ears catch the sound of rumbling waves but I’m not fast enough so lose, I fall off and have to clamber to the surface.
The place was normal enough
The farm was normal enough it had a shed an old windmill up on a hill a couple of fields filled with sheep and a bush block for your back yard with a small cottage for the workers.
My parents, brother the rest of the family and I did what normal family’s did.
Played board games when it was wet, played on the hills with the dogs, and the kids rushed around the field scattering sheep. Waiting for dark when we could play spotlight and stay up late dancing and singing and when the morning came we would go and collect ice and build creatures out of snow.
Doing nothing important.
The camp was normal enough it had a river a bridge a wharf and a lake with Jet Ski lanes. My parents, brother, friends and I did what normal campers did, play in the river bomb off the wharf catch kora and go biscuiting and water skiing along with the wake boards and bounce along the lake laughing and screaming as we go.
Doing nothing important.