Mitchell Tennewell
The wave roared towards them with speed and violence they had not anticipated. They both turned to run but by that time it was too late. The wave crashed into their legs sweeping both of them off of their feet. They now found themselves in a washing machine of saltwater, getting tumbled and not know what was up or down. Both were scared, not knowing how this was going to end, but it was by far the best time of the trip thus far.
She had been told time and time again that the most important steps were the first and the last. It was something that she carried within her in everything she did, but then he showed up and disrupted everything. He told her that she had it wrong. The first step wasn’t the most important. The last step wasn’t the most important. It was the next step that was the most important.
