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Soccer Descriptive Writing

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My eyes flutter open to my alarm clock, which is sounding off the noise that tells me it is time to get ready. I jump out of bed, forgetting the ridiculously early time. I throw on my uniform, toss my hair up into a ponytail, and hurry down the stairs to get my water bottle ready. My stomach is in knots and my heart is racing. I force myself to take a few bites of an apple, but thats all I can stomach at the moment. My dad ready to go every Saturday, no matter the time. He has been at every soccer game since I was five years old. When we arrive at the field I run over to my coach, eager to start the game. The air is crisp and cool as it blows across my face. The grass glistens with early morning dew. As I run arose the field, I think there

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