I learned how to swim in this pool. there’s something melancholic with a pool not in use. or perhaps it is just my melancholic mind.
~I remember the feeling of the grooved, plastic carpet under my feet. swallowing too much water while swimming. sneaking into the boys sauna. the smell of hot wood and chlorine water. feeling slightly shy but curious about nudity. humidity that makes your long john’s glue to your skin once you got dressed. wet, cold hair underneath a woolen hat. and in summertime the sound of the trampoline outdoors. bringing our turtle in a plastic box to the pool. scraping your toes on the concrete slabs. buying ice cream and mixed candies in the little kiosk and taking the bus back home with another pair of freckles and feeling happily exhausted~