This is how I like to remember it now, so many years later:
I am six and in as deep as I dare. I dive through filtered hot summer sun to check the shadows of clouds on a peeling, aqua-blue canvas below. A push of water to my right abruptly breaks my focus. I turn to see a girl much like me gliding past with big effort, on the wave of small brown arms and the legs of a lopsided kick.
She is precariously close to the abyss.
I hold my breath as she spins to look me straight on.
Her fish-like eyes do not speak, but I hear challenge, clearly.
A moment later, she breaks jail, sweeping under the rope and into the deep end.
I do not have enough breath in me to think. Without adequate time to consider, I plunge in, sweeping my own brown…
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