I had to more or less catch her, as she fell forward, pressing up against me. She looked at me and remarked, “Thanks, where did you come from?” �...I live next door,” I replied. “Oh cool,” Rosie remarked, “You’re the guy with the pool!” I acknowledged being the neighbor with the pool. “Can I see it?” Rosie asked. I looked at Eve. “You’re on your own,” Eve commented. Rosie looped an arm under my arm and smiled. “You know,” Rosie commented, as we headed back through the house for a trek next. How much longer? How long until I hit? About 2,000 feet – or so it seems – make that 25 feet per second in this dense air. What’s that, 80 seconds, give or take? I wonder how warm it is? I wonder if it’s as warm as my blood? ______________________________________ You’re sinking, salt water runs up your nose and you remember the tank at Whitby Island, the ditch drills – slamming into the water and going inverted in a heartbeat – what was it they said, exhale slightly through your nose, force. More

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