It’s the water that stops you from drowning. Endlessly echoing the way you move, pulling at you, pushing you.
Its better than running, you don’t have to know where you’re going, you go from one end of the pool to another. It’ll even carry you- look up or under the water, it distorts both. Angry, lost or motionless, it’ll sway with you. I think back, piecing it together, floating, drifting.
Every stroke takes you further away, every paddle pushes you further. Maybe you’re getting there, maybe you aren’t. I think about things, people. The analogy of a womb comes to mind but its forced, ridiculous. I want to move, not stay asleep.
At least I’m not drowning.