Michele Feltman Strider on Nostr: You dive into the pond after Lily, the weight of your clothes slowing you slightly. ...

You dive into the pond after Lily, the weight of your clothes slowing you slightly. It feels wonderful to wash off the unspeakable.

Stars sparkle. The night air thrills your damp skin. You should do this more often. You float happily, humming R.E.M.'s "Nightswimming."

The sound of angry men breaks the stillness. The torch boys have gathered along the shore, where you left Steve and Lily's horse. (You really do need to get that name.)

In the darkness, you cannot see the far side of the pond.