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  • Danielle Wechsler

A Hidden Oasis

Driving through Huntington village the young people cover the sidewalks as they make their way to the bars.

They talk loudly but not enough to cover the pounding bass of my music.

I feel the seats shake and the window tapping to the beat of the song.

The scenery changes from tall buildings to luxurious suburban mansions that tower the hills they sit upon.

The young people transform into middle-aged men and woman silently walking their poodles and golden retrievers.

The bass of the music still shakes the car, continuously sending vibrations to my fingertips.

I pull down the visor to shield my eyes from the orange sky.

The trees slowly uncover the shore.

We arrive at a small beach accompanied by few local residents.

As I open the car door the smell of the ocean brushes past me and the brisk October wind sends my hair in every direction.

I remove my shoes to unleash the cold, gritty sand onto my feet.

I feel the touch of a hand as I walk towards the shore.

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