The young man gripped his steering wheel and held the throttle. He flew through Highway 5 in his '78 Camero. Squealing around every corner in his hot convertible, he let his long blond hair blow with the wind. As his heart beat fast, he was trapped in the excitement of the moment.

He braked; his open expression went blank. The passion was gone as he slowed inches from the motor homes tail gate. The RV crept around each corner, passing turnout after turnout, seemingly unaware of the car behind. His face went sour as he mumbled curse words and thoughts of ill intention. The young man gave a slight honk, but only slight, just enough to give notice of his presence. He wanted to honk louder, but he was taught better. The man was out of patience as he came to small straight in the road. He turned the wheel left crossing the double yellow line. Just in view from the corner came a oncoming semi. He stepped on

From below voices chanted his name. Every one was watching. He had no choice but to go. He closed his eyes and jumped. Splash his feet slapped against the water callousing them with war marks. He looked behind; inches he lay from the rock's rugged base. It was close but it was done and he was the man.

Justin smiled his crooked teeth, "Oh it's the brown sedan over there. A piece a *censored* car."

The young man stuck out his hand just yearning to flip off the driver of the passed vehicle. He couldn't do it. Years of being nice were engraved in head. Thoughts of lessons taught by his mother and grandmother circled through his mind. As he stuck his hand back on the wheel he blurred out thoughts of anger. It was obvious he wanted to let it out, so he floored his Chevy, breezing away from the coast. As the Camero climbed toward the heart of the redwoods, the young man looked with flare. He traveled up the bare twisted road of Highway 5. Its edges seemed to crumble dangerously as he pulled around the sharp switchbacks.

"Olin Hill," he said, as he gazed toward the redwoods. He was still stuck in the thinkers pose. He didn't even look at her exquisite looks.

"Hey Olin," a voice said coming from the water.

"Yes. your name please?" The woman sat in a little house with a small teller like window. She wore greyish green clothes. A tag placed by the shirt collar read "Anne Vansykln, Richardson Grove."

The woman did not answer; she just stood there melancholia. Olin brushed the woman's arm off his shoulder and ran toward the crowd.

"Sure did Justin said from behind fixing his black hair with a part to the side. "I am going to get me a peace of that," he boasted smiling crooked teeth.

Some common words found in the essay are:
Hey Jonas, Olin Hill, Camero Squealing, Jump Justin, Ray Ban, Hill English, Hey Olin, Jonas You're, Richardson Grove, Jonas Jonas, olin looked, stuck hand, olin looked rock, highway 5, hundred feet, crooked teeth, stepped gas, richardson grove, arm shoulder, looked rock, brown sedan,
Approximate Word count = 2089
Approximate Pages = 8 (250 words per page double spaced)