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Gulf Stream Park

She wasn't much to look at–just a scrawny dark little girl with almond shaped eyes and an upturned nose–but her face was interesting all the same. Perhaps it was the mischievous glint, or the pensive mouth–oddly conflicting elements in the same visage.

Unfortunately, at the moment, the eyes were not mischievous or the mouth pensive. Both were opened wide in a moment of sheer terror. I stood rooted to the sand of the Gulf. The child was floating out to the deep–on nothing more than a makeshift inner tube!

Whether her parents were momentarily distracted by the other four rambunctious children or they did not perceive her danger, I'll never know. Within moments, her father had plunged into the dirty Gulf waters and drawn her back to shore.

I wonder if she cares for the water now?

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