Big, powerful waves crashing down on the golden hot ground.
Dead, smelly rotten fish ripped apart by the rushing currents.
Loud, annoying birds squawking across the bright blue sky.
Relaxed , from the cold breeze brushing past my blonde wavy hair.
Hot chocolate melting on my burning hot tongue.
I can’t wait to go to Rotoma next year.
Maisie
Maisie Croft
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