And as I ran, as I kept running, I noticed that the wave that had crested over the hill was made of deeper and deeper water. Every time I look forward, the beach seemed longer, so I would try to run closer to the outside edge of the rocks. I looked back, and the water was getting closer, deeper, more powerful in its white spray -- a swirling, leaping, downwards pull that, if it didn't drown me, wo...

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