The Pool
Here’s the truth about it, though: we wish we were still the night people we were ten years ago. Now we are the people on the couch at 10:30 eating handfuls of popcorn. It’s obvious.
We wrapped our hands around the chain-linked fence. You had never seen the pool before. If we could see the moon, it would have reflected off the cracked blue floor. Instead, it was dark, empty. I bent my knees and dug in the toes to hoist myself over to the concrete below.
“There’s an easier way,” one of the night people called. Their faces were obscured by bushes and swing sets and the night. “Over on the end.”
There was an easier way- a milkcrate on it’s side, a leg up and over. We sat on the steps inside. A spider as large as my thumb went round and round in a widening invisible orbit. There was only one star we could see- something bright, clustered and, with further study, probably wasn’t a star at all.
AB
