Home in Folly

April 16, 2018
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The waves roar and crash against each other as they roll towards the shore. My somber last day in Folly, was spent nowhere else but on the beach.  The storm approaching had turned the ocean dark, and the skies above matched the mood I was feeling inside. The life guards had scattered and gone home, but I remained put. It felt like the ocean was roaring, upset I had to leave it behind. Looking out into the deep mystic waves, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace, I felt as if I were home. It is quite upsetting to think about how every little thing in Folly makes me ache with yearning desire. The smell of the air, the kind people, the quaint but beautiful places, and every little thing in between. As my parents call me from the end of the beach to go, but their efforts were futile; their voices fade away with the sounds of the ocean waves crashing. I do not move a muscle at the sounds of their voices, nor do I bat an eye. I continue to stare out into the ocean, my true home, captivated.

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