Into the Pool
The day had been long and hot; more than hot. A searing dry heat; the sort that turns the back of your throat into parched bark and your eyeballs into a prickly mess. The air was thick with the smell of warm earth and eucalyptus.
The cottage was set back from the beach, reached only by a dust-track and protected by two thirsty gum trees. They seemed to be sagging at the shoulders as if giving up in the heat, casting off leaves and limbs whenever they couldn’t cope with the burden any longer.
We’d stayed indoors, flopping like exhausted dogs, hardly able to move in the suffocating heat. The ceiling fan mesmerised us with its constant whir. And then finally, the sun fell out of the sky and we were drawn outside by the possibility of a cool evening. The pool was still and not a breath stirred the glassy surface – until we jumped in!