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Barefoot.

Life happens when you least expect it. I always made it to the beach by one with the Miami Herald and the New York Times. It was the most lucid part of my day. One unspecific afternoon, I was comfortably flipping pages and scanning headlines when the yellow bikini clad chick with the promising smile showed up and laid down ten feet from me. The last time I had seen her was on the heels of turn number 96.


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