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The heat of the sun,
Beating down on us,
As we float down the swift,
Rushing river,
One hand holding the tube of a friend,
The other be used to propel forward,
In an attempt to keep up,
As my hand rushed through the water,
I occasionally feel weeds and rocks scrape my hand causing cuts and bruises to form,
The smell of sunscreen lingers in the air at people's futile attempts to keep the sunlight at bay,
The sound of rushing water and laughter rings in my ears as people around me have the time of their lives,
I hear my name being called as my friend rushes back to me as fast as he possibly can,
To retrieve his tube from me,
To continue floating until the end of our trip,
A sliver of sadness fills my soul,
Knowing that he will leave when this is over,
And I won't get to see him again for a long time,
So I must make this last,
Make every moment count.

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