Gone Swimming

Photo prompt © Jean L. Hays

 

She spent the day swimming, buoyed by the swell and fall of waves, kissed by the spray of salt, caressed by playful bursts of wind as silvery bodies and slick flippers dipped and slid and spun beside her.

The sun warmed the top of her head, then the tip of her nose and the crests of her knees as she turned to rest and float and face it.

It was like living in a dream.

And it was. A dream.

The stained glass in the open door a portal to what was. The ventilator sighed. She could no longer swim.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

 

One More Swim

breakwater2 NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

“Time to go.” Ari shook the ground-cloth.

“One more swim to the breakwater and back!” Deni pleaded.

Ari eyed the sky, the flagpole buckling in the wind, the jellyfish tumbling in the surf. “Another time,” he turned to fold their sun-umbrella.

Behind him he heard Deni’s running steps. He reached for the vinegar. That girl never did listen.

 

 

For Sammi’s weekend writing prompt: Breakwater in 58 words