I couldn't make out the rest of her motherly instructions of safety. I had far more important issues at hand. Today was the day we were going to play a new version of shark. My brothers had discussed it several times recently (after all, what else was there to do while we were stranded inside for two whole weeks?) One person would be the shark and the other three would pretend our boogie boards were really professional surf boards and we were going to attempt to reach our furthest destination yet.
The water hit my warm face with a cold mist and the sting felt wonderful. The waves were just right. Not too high that I couldn't jump up on my board, not too rough that I couldn't stay on. It was a little crowded, as you could expect so many would be anxious to finally get outdoors. So many people were playing and splashing, jumping and screaming. It was a tad chaotic to be honest. I wasn't sure how we would be able to play our game of "shark" with so many people pushing in our area but my brothers assured my sister and me that we could still play we just wouldn't be able to have much space between us. We picked shells to determine who would be "shark" first. We never showed each other which shell we drew so no one else knew before the game started who would be the shark. As we climbed aboard our "surf boards" and paddled out into the vast open sea (really only out to about three feet of water) the "shark" would commence stalking its prey. Since we were unaware of which sibling was it we constantly scrambled to get away from each other. After the first victim was claimed the game was in full swing. That sibling would then frantically start screaming "Shark, shark!" and pointing in the directing of the sibling they had figured out was on the hunt.
I heard the first shouts of the game coming from my sister. Ok, she was not it. As I turned my head in every direction trying to see who she was pointing at I felt the brush of sandpaper against my leg.
