Three Times
Under
by Michael C.
Keith
The first time I pulled my
way above the water’s surface I saw the
ferry moving away, and I screamed and waved my
arms hoping to be rescued.
Help! Help!
The second time I broke the
water’s surface I saw a giant swell lifting
toward the empty sky, and it blocked everything I
had seen just seconds before.
Help! Hel . . .
The third time I groped my
way beyond the water’s surface I saw the
shapeless light of the sun. Why hadn’t I
learned to swim? I asked myself, the
brightness giving way to the sea’s dark
interior.
Hel . . .
I’m gone . . . I’m
gone. Three times under, I thought, but a
wave miraculously carried me to the sandy shore.
There I gasped for air as beach goers looked down
at me with disdain.
And then I saw the sign:
“Private Beach.”
Shit! Lousy luck!
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