Personal Narrative: My Trip To Flagler Beach

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A few summers back, my family and I took a trip out to Flagler Beach, Florida, not too far from Daytona. A few days into the vacation, the girls had gone out for a shopping trip, so, because there was a slight drizzle, my Dad and I decided to just chill out and watch some TV until the weather decided to calm down. This was a vacation that will never be forgotten.
My ears perk up as I notice the quieting of the rain against the window. I get up and walk over, pushing the roughly sewn curtain to the right side of the window, gazing out into the world beyond. Though it was still overcast, I ask my Dad, “Can we go down to the beach now since the rain has cleared up?” He holds one finger up, gesturing for me to wait a second, and whips out his smartphone to check the weather radar, nodding his head in approval of the forecast.
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Looking out to the ocean with its overcast sky, I can hear the rolling thunder, picking up on the small rumbles that are followed by a larger one which I can feel move the air around me, far off in the distance and the waves crashing down in front of me. I pick up the soft, wooden paddles and hand one to my Dad, hitting the rubber paddle-ball over to him which made a “thunk” against my paddle. He whacks the ball back to me, forcing me to dive into the sand to volley the ball back over to him, the sand scratching against my skin irritatingly. We set the paddles down in the sand next to our towels under the green umbrella and get ready to go for a swim, applying our sunscreen just in case we get cloud burn. I pick up both of our boogie boards and throw my Dad’s to him as if it were a frisbee, and we both launch ourselves into the warm waters of the Gulf, the water filling my nose and mouth with that familiar salty tinge. A few minutes pass and both of us have caught some relatively tall waves because of the wind coming in from the

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