Writing

__**Narrative**__

"Won't you guys stop watching the show," said my mom. "It's a beautiful day, and were on vacation." After that episode come down to the beach." " Okay," we replied as we anxiously got back to our show. As I was walking down the stairs I could hear the loud rumbling of the jet skis. They looked so fun, but I thought I wouldn't be able to drive one. Alex who was fifteen came shortly after and asked " do you want to go on the jet skis." I replied "only if I'm old enough to have my own." When we got down to the shore we waited ten minutes to go on, and ask if I was to small. Since it was Mexico Alex pointed at me, and said to the man " a peqeño." Then the man made a gesture that said " it doesn't matter." As I stepped in the water I felt the cold salty ocean on my feet while I was buckling my life jacket on tight. I hopped on, pushed the ignition, and I was off. The wind was blowing my hair back as mist surrounded my body, gliding across the ocean. I held on tight turning left, and right, feeling the powerful motor in the back. Slow and steady at first which then became a race between myself and time. Turning back to look at the shore, when all I see are little specks. Speeding around boats, and jumping over waves, I couldn't be any happier. The bright sun shining down my back.

__**Poem**__

Weather is an orchestra

Rain is the bang of a steady drum beating on the forest floor wanting revenge

A stroke of a guitar shouts power of thunder

Soft mellow sound of a flute running through the air as a relaxed spring breeze

Banging of an upright bass shaking your world as an earthquake

Swift flowing violins comporting the world as snow

Weather will never stop singing