It was a day like any separate; the sheen reflection of the radiant sun in my eyes, the familiar composed breeze p riging with my light hair, and the coarse yellow spine between my toes. The golden sun had risen along with the birds, fish, and other(a) wildlife. A twenty-one year old chap whose shape I could barely identify through the gullible disinfect was walking down a path. The path was all in like manner well known to the staff. The mans name was Boz. Boz was the Aquatics Director at camp Liberty. At first glance, one might theorise he is similar to an army drill sergeant. Boz had many of the tangible attributes of an army sergeant; the strong chin, large muscular build, and a crew cut. However, Boz had the personality of a twelve-year-old mischievous, retro style boy. Noel was already asleep on one of the old wooden crack benches. Noel was an American-Mexican with an amiable disposition and a curly afro. Dan was on the other side of the beach attempting to raise some heavy green canvas. With some effort, I made my way over to the pilotage table, arranged some tools, and got my materials ready for the upcoming day.
Preparing consisted of removing any sluggish snakes from the past night, making sure all of the boats were still intact, and accordingly checking the weather. Once I had glanced over the boats, I decided to lay down on a picnic table and name the sky. I gazed at the clouds that had become almost transparent from attempting to click the whole sky with their creamy smooth bodies. My mind began to appreciation into the past, and a red setting sun floated to the surface of my memories. As my mind began to dwell on the beauty and majesty of...
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