by Sara Anna
I wrote this when I was 13, I am now 17 and my writing style is much different.
|A light breeze brushes through my open windows. I am nothing more than a simple beach hut on the shore of Malibu, California. A beach hut old, but familiar passed on through a family from Washington. How I love their enjoyment coming here after a long painful year of rain and clouds filling their days. As I slowly watch the summer pass, I stand there with a gentle feel. A welcome mat waiting to greet people with the warmth of my spirit that comes off my floors and walls. I hum breathless words, I am relaxed it is truly unreal. I stay trying to think tan, turquoise, beach colors relaxing after a stressful day.
As if I am actually flesh and bones I feel everything, and anything. I feel so calm and at peace with the harsh ocean waves. I feel the gentle mist of a wave, as the wind picks up, and the cool air when night falls. The sounds of crashing waves against the rocks through the air like a melody. Somehow the fresh air and salty water makes my senses tingly with joy every sun rise. The sunsetting is the site I tend to enjoy the most, I watch every night with joy and happiness, to take such a simple gift from nature and turning it into something amazing.
I get this strong feeling that I am stationed but some how so fragile to the surrounding world yet it seems like I am in a perfect bubble. As if nothing can move this pure calmness, not even the gentle ocean waves nor the gust of wind on a harsh day. But on the beautiful days I feel fresh like a new coat of paint on a white wall. Every warm day I am put to good use, natural with the breezy summer air. The tapping of feet on my worn wood floor, tracking in sand and water from a day of adventure at the beach. Quietly awaiting the sunset, with its pure beauty that brings each night to a slow end.
I am a mere beach hut only used four months out of the year, but life times have passed through me and I feel simply loved; the fact that, life passes by but for that little while you have to treasure it, treasure the simple wonders a day at the beach and a simple beach hut you go home to each night. I am proud to say I am that beach hut that, that family from Washington can look forward to for just a couple months, relaxing them. Secretly they are relaxing me, using me and treasuring me is one of my greatest joys; making people happy seeing and sensing their smiles. Slowly on a late August day my shades are pulled down and my doors are locked. Once again I am closed, waiting till a late May day where the warmth will be replaced and I am open once more.
Please be aware that many sentences make little to no sense, I was an 8th grader told to "show emotion," and be descriptive.