I stumble down the wet clumps of clay,
The dirty dark grey clay mold's my feet with every step,
I step on the boiling sand,
I sprint to the shimmering clear blue water,
It's cold and refreshing as it touches my dry skin,
I get dehydrated so I leap out of the water,
And rush to get a Fanta and lollies,
I hate Stratfords hot days
