Swimming Lesson

The swimming pool smelt of chlorine and people; all the different smells that people smell of. The heat seemed to rise up from the water, making clouds on its surface, creating an impression of mystery. Daniel, in his tennis shoes, a note excusing him from swimming lessons, stared through the steam on his glasses to the steam on the water to the water itself to inside the water where, lying still, apart from hair gently swaying, was his classmate Laura.

Everything above the surface was not still, but the opposite; bodies moving around one another in circles and squares, in swimsuits, legs running past the "Do Not Run" sign, mouths opening and closing, and sounds, seemingly disconnected from these actions, penetrating the slow-motion feeling, making things seem fast again. Daniel did not wipe the steam from his glasses, but sat there, silently, in his winter coat, too hot, feeling sick, unsure of what to do. Sirens were distant then close, then they were all ushered outside in their towels and swimming caps. Standing in the car park, Daniel looked directly at the sun in the midday sky.

And it was then, as his mother pulled in to drive him home, that Daniel realised what his mother already knew, and that Laura would never surface from the swimming pool.