The surfers are waiting eagerly like a bird watching it’s prey.
Suddenly an enormous tunnelling wave grabs them like a giants fist.
The exited surfers start to bob in the waves starting to
Up above the world.
The crashing waves slaughter the surfers.
The shimmering, ice blue waves settle as the gleaming
Burning, sun goes down.
The surfers carry on surfing in the warm sea by the moon light.
Not worried about the time. Not worried about anything.
People leave but the surfers carry on.
By Becky Tuppen
