“Will you have enough time? It’s only an hour and a half before we have to be there”

I’m pulling on my black swimmers, nodding. Grabbing my goggles, a bottle of water, making for the door. “I’ll be back in time, I’ll just do as much as I can in half an hour”

Half way there, realising that I don’t have a towel. Shrugging philosophically, knowing the chair will be wet on the way home.

Car parked. Gravel, then grass under my Crocs, paying the man at the desk.

Striding towards the pool, whipping my glasses off like Clark Kent on his way into a phone booth. Sarong deftly untwisted, pooled on the bench, followed closely by my red backpack

The swim is fast, eyes on the time and before I know it, I’m walking through the door.

Surprise “Was the pool closed?”

Laughing “No, I’m finished!”

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