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Personal Narrative: The Boston Marathon

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“Whoa, whoa! Where is this taking us, where, where?” I said as my heart was beating as fast as a runner who finished the Boston Marathon. I was hiking with my family a second ago, and now I am through a wavy transparent wall that made me feel like I was heading through Platform 9 ¾ in Harry Potter. I suddenly was flying through a golden sky that glistened like the sun hitting the ocean. Gracefully I did flips and cartwheels in the air while gold ribbon followed me like ducklings following their mother. Milliseconds later I landed in a grassy field. Cows were harvesting crops and cooking dinner. Straw hats aligned their faces, with brown corduroy overalls splattered in dirt. They smelled like a fertilizer company on a hot summer afternoon.

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