Part 1 of Essay
I run down the boardwalk, not worrying about getting splinters in my tender feet. Every ten or fifteen feet I stop, sometimes to smell the salty sea air, but mostly to wait for my parents who plod along behind carrying chairs, coolers, and other beach paraphernalia. I yell back to them to hurry, and they reply that I can ....

Part 2 of Essay
.... isn't so bad if I run really fast. The wind blows in my face, bringing with it that smell, almost a taste of the ocean. It seems to be a combination of fish, salt, people, and water all mixed into one. I continue to run until I reach the water's edge where the waves crash upon the beach, making the white sand brown and hard. I sit down on the sand, panting after my enormous effort. Something troubling pulls at the edge of my mind, but I ignore it. A wave rolls up to the beach, crashing around me, wetting me ....