The house across the street is having an equestrian competition. The horses are skittish. One of the girls hits hers in 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 with dog piss stains.
The horse crumples and dies. Everyone is rushing to take it away but I can’t find my camera. Its muscle fibers are hidden away without my attention. 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 tread water and then wake up.