Tom Rubbish Ocean

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I Woke Up. I Ate. I Showered. I Went to School. I Slept. The same routine The same routine. School was a blur, home was a blur. The only thing that held in the motion were my friend’s grandad’s talk of how the ocean used to be How it was clean and people used to swim in it and surf on it and jump, throwing balls in the waves.
My family house was on one of the cheaper pieces of land in the area as it had a view of the ocean. So naturally, the government didn’t care too much about us. The roads are worn and the rubbish truck barely ever came by so we had to make the trek over the sand dunes to the ocean to dispose of our trash. It was the day that James’s – my friend’s – grandpa was diagnosed with cancer that I changed, the day that I wanted to make a story come true. As soon as I got home after visiting the hospital with my mate, I began to imagine. The waves I had been informed about, the blue green swirls of swash. I was thinking of a day where we went down to the beach (without our bin) and began to jump in these walls of rubbish free ocean water, like the ones all the celebrities have in their pools, only naturally formed.
Page 1: Tom Quick
Page 5 and 6: I had gotten in touch with this guy
Page 7 and 8: The crowd thinned as we began the r
Page 9 and 10: A week later when I met up with the

Tom Rubbish Ocean

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