It wasn’t a particularly special day; in fact I was home alone again. My parents had already left for work seeing as it was already 9 o’clock. I rolled over and looked out my window. Forecast: partly cloudy, highs of 95, low of 80 chances of showers tonight around midnight. I remembered listening to the weather late last night. Its not like I was planning something today that needed perfect weather, I just happened to be lounging on the couch with a good book when my dad decided to watch the news.

Anyhow, I willed myself to put my feet on the floor and walk to the kitchen. I looked around, empty coffee cups were in the sink and the toaster was still out. Oh, and an empty water bottle, maybe my sister had gone running that morning. It wasn’t really important.

Anyways, I walked to the fridge and took out the cantaloupe, my favorite. It smelled buttery, I don’t know why but ripe cantaloupe smells buttery and sweet. I took out the cheese knife, now I know it say’s “Cheese knife” on it and everything, but man is that knife a great cantaloupe-slicing machine. I don’t know why my uncle gave us the 15 pampered chief knife set anyway; it’s not like my mom uses anything but that machete when she cooks. I think I we should get rid of it though, she’s already slit her finger open once, what next? Nevertheless I began to cut up the cantaloupe. First I cut it in half and then into slices. I love the color of the insides; it’s all orange and happy. The hardest part was next; I had to cut the fruit off the rind. I almost slit my finger open, good thing the cheese knife is easy to handle. I cut the melon into small pieces and put it in a bowl, I ate it on the back porch. It’s nicer out there.

I got bored of staring at the birds so I went upstairs and got dressed. I threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, the off-white one from that store at the mall, the one with the tree on it. Anyways, I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, washed my face and what not. I walked into my room and glanced at the clock, it was just about ten. Next I went to the front room to look for my shoes. Its this room at the front of the house, it has a television as well as the toys I played with when I was little. Really it’s just a place to go, see my grandfather likes to sit in the living room and blast the TV on whatever sports game is currently in the works. But he wasn’t there, he was with my grandmother in their condo in Florida, but that didn’t matter, because I was only looking for my shoes. I found them under the couch; the left one had teeth marks on it. I wondered how those got there… probably Freddie, my Shih-tzu, or “Killer” one of his many, interesting, nicknames. I won’t mention the others. Anyways I put my shoes on and headed for the door.

I gabbed my CD player form the kitchen counter. I know, I know, I’m living in the dark ages right? I know I need to buy myself an mp3 player; I just haven’t gotten around to it. See, that would involve getting money out of my bank account, and that’s just too tedious. See then you have to go to the bank, and talk to the teller, no to mention remember your bank account number, which I can never do. Besides then the whole buying process would involve my parents. I can’t take any money out without their consent. I mean they would let me take it out, but then I would get a lecture on saving my money for something important. Anyways, I put it into my bag along with my small collection of CD’s. Then I walked to the garage.

I took the black bike off the rack a wheeled it to the door. The bike was technically my brother’s but my whole family used it. It was nothing special, just a black 6-speed bike with hand breaks. In any case, I wheeled the bike across the lawn and into the street. I put my bag on the handlebars and pedaled down the block. I had a decision to make, where exactly was I going? I weighed my options: go bike around then return home to waste time in front of the TV, go to Tony’s lot and sit for awhile doing nothing, or for the first time ever bike across the bridge to the beach. I thought about it; TV was out, daytime television sucks, nothing but fake court shows and preschool cartoons. Tony’s lot didn’t interest me, nothing there but sand and old boats. So I decided to take a risk and head to the beach. I followed the road around to the boulevard and carefully peddled across the busy 8-lane road. It was mad scary considering my extreme fear of crossing the street, and I considered many times to just back out and go home. But I made it across to the correct side and continued to use my biking safety skills to cross the bridge and make my way to the beach. It took awhile, a good twenty minuets but it was fun anyway.

I got to the normal beach. Brighton I think, and put my bike in the rack, locking it with a chain. It was a heavy-duty chain, with large links and a combination lock, like the ones they use at school. But this one was older; I think it was my mom’s when she was little. Well that doesn’t matter much. So I walked up the boardwalk and on the beach. It was a nice day so there were a lot of people there. There was this one umbrella to the right; it was made of this fake grass stuff. Like the stuff they make the Hawaiian skirts out of, it was interesting.

I hadn’t brought my suit or a towel so I just went to the edge and put my feet in. It was nice, but a little chilly. And it had those things in it. Those fish eggs, they look like little jellyfish, but they’re not. I was glad I wasn’t going to be swimming. I walked down the beach to a point in-between the two swimming areas where there weren’t a lot of people. I took out my CD player and sat down and listened to some songs. Nothing new or anything, in fact a lot of it was random mixes people had given me. Anyways I sat there for a while just looking out at the ocean and humming along to the songs. Then I saw some boats on the horizon, I think one was a party boat. The kind that carries tourists out to the ocean so they can go fishing. I’ve never been on one myself, but I think my dad went on one once. Later, at high tide, I had to move back so the waves wouldn’t hit me. That’s pretty much it though. Oh yea, then I found five dollars.

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This story is based on my life. Its not true, but the information is. Get it? Anyway I hopped you enjoyed it! (My friends will tell you that this is exactly how I tell them stories, long and point less!)

P.S. The point of this story is that there is no point.