It's rush hour at the pool. Every lane is packed, I see a textured canvas of arms churning water, heads bobbing, water splashing over feet kicking furiously.
The clock says 7:45.
I'm in up to my waist, gathering the courage to submerge and join the chain of swimmers, up and back, up and back. I put it off, allowing the sensation of being half in, half out of the cool water to linger.
I'm straddling two worlds.
Above there is noise. Splash, splash. My hands itching to wrap around an iphone, a coffee, any addiction. Below is blue nothing.
Take the plunge. Kick, kick. Splash, splash.
Propelling through the water, I join the chain. My arms new strokes on this canvas, the neon pink of my swimming cap tracking alongside the lane ropes. Up and back, up and back.
What have they come here to forget? I wonder. What dreams do they wish the water would wake them from?
We swim and swim until we can't swim anymore, or until our lives beckon. Outside, dripping chlorine and shivering we are individuals once more.
(EDIT- Just noticed my typo- thanks very much for pointing it out guys! Is it at all indicative of my state of mind that i substituted a U for the O PROFONDA, or do I imagine that the profundity of my thoughts out weighs the terribleness of my spelling? I wonder.)
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