The lifeguard is off duty, so my mind sinks. I am not a shark. There’s a verruca plaster in the deep end talking to me. “Do you remember how you got an A in GCSE PE for life-saving but failed swimming?” There’s a dolphin in the slow lane enjoying her fake freedom. I wonder if Millsy still swims. He had to wait until the rest of us had reached a quarter of the way down the pool at Galas before diving in and winning. There’s a piranha in the fast lane. He bit me in the changing room last week when my psoriasis shampoo fell out of my bag. My spine is sea weed. I don’t wear goggles because I don’t want to see my legs kicking for no reason. I heard once that the trauma of nearly drowning can cause a stammer. I wonder if that’s true when pulled under by social situations. Oh, the lifeguard’s back. I am a shark.

Carl Burkitt 2025