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From the helicopter above, I dropped my son

  • From the helicopter above, I dropped my son into the Atlantic. "Survival instincts are the best swimming lesson," I shouted as he descended. "I put granola bars in your pocket, so

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  • you have plenty of stamina to fight off those sharks!" I waved cheerily from the helicopter hatch as Robbie fell into the sea, his eyes big as saucers. "But Mommyyyyy! I'm only six

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  • xxx." Robbie yelled as he plummeted into the shark-infested waters. His mom knew that 1st graders needed to be pushed out their nest to get character. Her dad did the same for her.

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  • The the thrashing of the sharks made the water boils. She couldn't see what was happening to her son Robbie. Then blood. Gushing. Calm. Robbie emerged with a shark's tongue in his

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  • mouth. The events that caused this mysterious site will never be answered. Robbie swam to his mother. She was struggling to stay afloat. A shark had bitten off her leg, blood was

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  • pouring out of her right femoral but not as fast as it had been moments before. This was attracting the sharks from miles around. That much blood promised meals for them all. Mom?

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  • His mum said, yes indeed. The planned feast in honour of their wedding was held and deluged with Shark Lady and her gang."You cannot steal my sacrament!", she said before coughing.

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  • Shark Lady's violent coughing produced evidence that she had eaten the entire wedding party, guests, parson and caterers. But since the venue had all ready been paid for, she

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  • dismissed all the physical symptoms. After all, wasn't she a shark in the first place? And didn't she deserve to celebrate the wedding party in her own unique way?

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  • She took one last look over her shoulder, at the land and all her loved ones there, smoothed down the folds of her tattered, ivory gown, and dove into the endless blue. Home.

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