Short Story: The Deep End.

This is a ten minute story (had to go back to edit though).

This was like being in the deep end. It was similar to remembering the incident all those years ago when you were in that pool with your Sister and you started to drown because you panicked, and you panicked not because you couldn’t swim very well, but mainly because it was the deep end and this in itself made you flounder – you had never been this far into the pool before and the swift realisation where you were freaked you utterly. So you went under, your mouth silently screaming as the water gushed into your lungs, screaming bubbles, calling and as this incident forces you to remember, it seemed as if you were spiralling out of control, like going down a big plug hole, sucking you under as a whirlpool would, ever down into its chlorine infested depths. Your Sister saved you that time, pulling you back to the surface, whilst you remember seeing your Mother at the side of the pool looking gravely concerned.

What made that memory surface? Present life situation probably; at the stage you were reaching in your life, the feeling of drowning was a very good, correct analogy to use – but this time there was no one to save, no one really to drag you back to the top, to rescue, to resuscitate you, to force you back on your feet. The deep end, several fathoms deep, a murky blackness that defied any illumination lay below the surface, almost as if it was beckoning you to panic again so it could envelop you, to pull you back under.

You break the seal (this one looks expensive, good), you find the corkscrew, you rinse the glass clean, removing the sediment from the previous nights occupant whose body now lay in the dustbin (should recycle) and pour. A glass of release – take deep breaths, count to ten and – relax –the first sip slides agreeably down your throat and into your system, your mind is now at peace. A temporary peace. All the ‘natives’ brandishing sharp spears towards you, all the wolves that lay outside your door vanish for several hours, or at least for this evening as the nectar of the gods works its magic on you, as the deep end and its terror become shallower.

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11 thoughts on “Short Story: The Deep End.

  1. Nice work – I like this. And the whole panicking at the deep end I can totally relate to and love the way you describe it. I have just had a flash thought in my head for my own story – thanks for the spark of imaginiation

  2. Thanks! A brief moment of creativity this morning. Rebecca, I used your six minute guide, but it was more like ten minutes, but what a fantastic way to get a story out quick, to capture the stream of consciousness in limited time. Thanks for that inspiration.
    Thanks all. x

  3. Loved the contrast between drowning in a bigger pool and the contained liquid in the glass being reviving.

    Welcome to the friday flash community

    marc nash

  4. You have a great talent for description, emotion, and putting the reader right where you are. I suppose one would say you have the skills to “show and not tell” which is one of those vague writing lessons that everyone talks about. But you seem to do it effortlessly, which is a tremendous thing.

    I loved this. It would be an ideal prologue for a book…I’m just sayin 🙂

    Keep writing. Even way across the pond, it’s like listening to you speak only inches away. That’s talent, my friend. Don’t ever give up on it.
    Elaine

  5. Love the comparison between drowning as a child in a pool, to drowning your sorrows in the wine of adulthood. The deep end of the pool is the same terrifying place. Nice job, Kevin!

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