Tiny drops of water falling in the swimming pool. Right out of the blessed sky itself. I dog paddled through 600,000 gallons of chlorine and urine seeking a little exercise and relief; the lone swimmer in the water being watched over by a bored but dutiful lifeguard named Lindsey. She must have been at least 12 years old.

I heard her speak through the slosh and gurgle in my ears.
( I was doing my manatees where I bob to the surface then slowly descend.)

“Rain.” She clearly said the word rain. I rolled to port and looked into the sun- tormentor of my days, ruler of my universe, the relentless fucking sun.

Tiny cool drops hit my face. Lindsey put down her umbrella and let the raindrops bounce off of her gigantic 1970’s shades.

Almost 15 minutes the shower continued, cooling my face, burned from the hotly acidic pool water. As the shower faded down to a sprinkle, I made my way to the ladder.

“That’s it?” said smug Lindsey.

“That’s it.” I said, “and it was more than enough.”


4 Responses to Mercy

  1. I’d never heard that description used for a type of swimming stroke before and it cracked me up. 🙂 Thanks! Even with all that sun that’s been baking down upon you day after day after day, you still have your sense of humor.