“Sometimes in the bath I plunge my head under the water and will the scars on my neck to open wide like mouths. Nothing. Even if I stay under until my eyes sting and my lungs burn and everything inside me feels like it’s about to burst, they stay closed. Perhaps the water’s too hot, or too soapy, or maybe even too shallow. Perhaps my brain knows I’m not really swimming.”
A story about a girl who’s supernaturally good at swimming. Winner of the 2015 Bare Fiction Prize (Short Story Category). Read the shortlist here.