Pool

It doesn’t mean that I don’t know.
I suck at reading. Sitting and doing one thing for a considerable amount of time. My brain seems to flurry and blizzard around as if the cold weren’t enough. But it’s not alone either, as you might be able to tell, from some sort of coincidence in reading this passage.
It was the warmth of an early September day that brought together boys in a pool. A whirlpool was their goal as they walked in circles together creating some sort of force that continued even as they picked up their feet. Sucked into the middle, most of them screamed in some sort of pursuit of happiness only recognized in youth and squandered in the realities of the adult mind.
“Mr. V.?” My attention focuses on a small face with a shaved head. His braces were gleaming in the sun as he looks at me with eyes that speak wonder.
“Do you think I could make one by myself?” I was hit by a train in the moment.
“What do you mean do you think you could make one yourself,” I thought to myself.
As the car that we allow them to drive off with starts its engine it is almost as if we start out own simultaneously. We tailgate, watching every move and turn on our brights so that we can see just passed them; we look on what’s ahead instead of on them. In return instead of focusing on what is ahead of them they focus on the idiotic fool that rides their bumper with their brights on impairing their vision on a road that we already know they are very capable of driving.
And in some sort of nightmarish fantasy we call this education.
“Do you think I could make one by myself?” He was in the pool. I was in a pool chair basking in my own self knowledge considering the physics of the water and his movement in it. I do wonder, is it possible…
Then again, I’m not the one in the pool.