spiral-bound.net( Perpetuating Our Culture of Narcissism )

The house across the street is having an equestrian competition. The horses are skittish. One of the girls hits hers on the head with a shovel. Accidentally. The horse bolts across the street and rips through the wall of my dining room, my hall closet, and my kitchen. It staggers into the backyard, streaming scarves and mittens. The grass is spotted dead with dog piss.

The horse crumples and dies. Everyone is rushing to take it away, but I can’t find my camera. Its muscle fibers should be documented. I decide to join the swim team.

Instead of laps, I sink to the bottom of the pool and stay there. This is the longest I have held my breath. I am happy. I do not touch the pool slime. Surfacing, I find that my arms have withered. I cannot get out of the pool.

I tread water and wake up.