Decrepit writing

I Can smell the salt as it slowly go up the beach from the sea.I can touch the palm tree’s strong rough suffice  and the beautifully slowly moved wind. I can taste the salty salt from the sea.The Boat's slowly move across the bay.The sound of the wave’s slowly crashing on the beach loudly.The beach chairs are super soft cushions squash on my back slowly.As i sit the palm tree’s shaded me.