I know what you’re thinking: how’s the load bearing capacity of the floor? Surely it can’t hold the weight of the water. I’m in a downstairs flat, so there’s no worry there. I make sure the door of my bedroom is tightly shut — I don’t want any leakages. Night-swimming is the best. I turn out the lights, not with wet hands of course, and ease my way into the water by the glow of the street lamps. Midnight swimming is off limits though, now that the council are saving money they turn off the lights. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, there’s a phosphorescent glow; it’s great looking like you’re green. I usually get twenty five minutes. That’s ten minutes to fill the room with water — I don’t have it deep, I need to be able to touch the bottom — then five minutes swimming time and then ten minutes to drain it. That’s usually how long I get before Dad presses his buzzer for help. Sometimes it’s longer, but that’s rare as rare.
FlashFlood is brought to you by National Flash-Fiction Day UK, happening this year on 27th June 2015.
In the build up to the day we have now launched our Micro-Fiction Competition (stories up to 100 words) and also our annual Anthology (stories up to 500 words). So if you have enjoyed FlashFlood, why not send us your stories?
More information about these and the Day itself available at nationalflashfictionday.co.uk.
Love the symbolism in this! Subtle and poignant.ReplyDelete
Sorry for the late reply, Freya! I'm so delighted you enjoyed the flash and thank you for taking the time to say so. It means a great deal coming from you.ReplyDelete