(Wrote it for the Future Learn online course Start Writing Fiction)
I’ve never learned to swim. My brother always said that anyone can do it, you just need to throw them in water. On hot summer days by the lake we used to bath in the most shallow place, and even there I had to walk on my toes not to drink the water. I remember those days as no time has past – dragonflies on water lilies, melancholic cows, our dog, running after butterflies.
My brother used to pick me up on his shoulders and throw me in the water. Just like that, without any pause.
“Come on, swim, you can do it!”
But I preferred to sink to the bottom and to sit there. Through layers of greenish water I saw huge figures of people standing over me, fantastic shapes, created by water lilies’ leaves, and huge yellow sun - so far away, in another world. The bottom of the lake was quiet and peaceful, my own green kingdom. I was so happy there…
“Gosh you’re useless! No survival instinct, at all!”
After this words my kingdom usually broke down into pieces. Green quietness disappeared. Sun was burning my nose, the kids on the other side of the lake were screaming and jumping into the water, the dog was barking at a lazy red cow. I was in my brother’s hands, trying to learn how to breath again.
Who can ever blame me for not wanting to swim?
- My kingdom