A gust of Atlantic wind whips the corner of the “house” out of my hand, exposing us to the harsh elements of Hampton Beach. Are those icicles forming in my hair?
Probably.
I grab my corner of the towel and tuck it into the driftwood, completing the “roof” of our little shelter. In lieu of a fireplace, we cram our wet, half-naked bodies as close together as possible, shivering until we laugh hysterically.
It’s Principal’s Day, an Exeter tradition in which one day of class is unexpectedly canceled. Many Exonians stayed home today, “catching up on work” or “relaxing.” But my favorite thing about myself is my playfulness, my sense of adventure.
So I braved the cold temperatures, rallied the troops, bought a lot of duct