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I look far into the ocean and see the buoys, all tethered together, floating perpendicular to the dock. Far away from the dock I see a defiant buoy floating away, dispersed from the others.  I think to myself, some savage must have untied that buoy and let it float away, and I decide to swim out to get it.  I can hear my mom nagging at me, asking me where I am going, but I don’t answer.  I start my swim out to the buoy.  It’s further than I thought and I begin to get tired and my epidermis starts to get wrinkly.  I begin to notice that the sun is going down.  I can see the bright maize sun quickly changing to succulent reds, oranges and pinks.  What am I going to do now? I know the ocean gets scary at night and no one is coming to save me.  I feel so dejected, and I am worried that I might not survive the night in the ocean.  I should have listened to my Mom. Luckily my family genealogy is made up of hard workers who try to get out of every sticky situation.  So I turned around leaving the buoy for another day and headed back to the shore to reconnect with my family.