

The Pier “3, 2, 1, go!” We rush forward; our feet pounding against the wooden pier. We go faster and faster until it seems like the only thing left in the world is us and the pier. The edge draws closer and closer, and all second thoughts are pushed out of my mind; however, that is not true for everyone. My sister stops short of the edge, windmilling her arms wildly, teetering over the edge. The rest of us sail into the air, turning and yelling: “You coward!”, and “You need to jump next time!” &nThe Pier
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"A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep a bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing."
- Keats, 'Endymion'.
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