My Perfume is Chlorine

Highly Commended in Best Irish/British Flash Fiction Micro fiction competition (BIFFY 50), January 2020

I’m at the deep end of the pool. Aqua colours are darker here.

Is the water green or blue?     

Many times, I’ve touched the bottom – it looks far away but it’s closer than I think. Treading water, I slumped down. Nearly drowned. Never thought I’d need saving – the lifeguards know my name.   

Now, a lifeguard is coaching me. We’re focusing on freestyle. The arc of my arms and butterfly kicks.       

I never dive in or Jump, just fall, but not a stinging bellyflop. Water never hurts me – only douses the tunnel of my day. My perfume is chlorine.