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The Shot

The Shot

Denver lead the way as I trudged behind her thinking of all the possible things that could happen next. We walked in silence hearing the leaves crumple under us and the occasional stick crack. I looked around and tried to make out any familiar surroundings but all I could see was the dark ominous look of tall trees in every direction. After what seemed to be about half an hour we came up to a clearing at the end of the path where a small brown shed stood alone. There were kayaks, canoes, and paddle boards leaning against the side of the shed and stacked on the outer parts of the clearing.
“Are we going kayaking or something?” I asked not knowing whether that was a valid question or not.
“That was a dumb question, Max.” Denver turned around and glared at me. “Since you have been here have you caught a glimpse of the ocean yet or even a lake. Exactly!  You haven’t, so no, we are not going kayaking. Those kayaks got donated to the school a while ago because some company thought we were located on the ocean and figured we did outdoor water sports for gym or something.”
“So then why are we here?”
“Because this is where Wes and I normally go on the weekends because neither of us enjoy being home.”

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