Henry Nguyen Mrs. Stabber Advance Writing April 10th, 2014 The Lost Tourists As the bus reaches its destination, the driver gave a deafening shout, quickly waking everyone up from their four hours bumpy, dead-tired bus ride. Paced out of the bus,while carrying my heavy overloaded backpack, a chill early spring breeze wings across my face. The dew lingers on the newly cut green grass, sparkle like dazzling diamonds under their fancy displays. The vivid tulips loosen their delicate petals to greet…
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