Still, I never saw anyone else out that far, and I felt proud that I could handle the distance, braving the deep water even though I worried vaguely about what lived in those depths. One Friday night we made plans to meet some friends at a bar. That night, after a few kisses, we slept chastely in separate twin beds in a rented straw hut. Already a subscriber? Step Fantasy. The water turned an inviting blue just past the breakers, so I headed out there, ducking my head under the muddy waves as I went. One Sunday I was flying through the water, making my fastest time to date, when, on my final lap, I sucked in a mouthful of water and lost my rhythm.
He was standing on the shore now, wrapped in a towel.
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This was our time for closeness, away from the rest of the family. His wife did, too. I said no. After the other swimmers finished, the crowd waited in silence for me to complete the race. After I left the farm, ducks receded from my consciousness until Danni flew into my backyard one Fourth of July weekend.