“She’s not far out. Turning, she can see the lights on shore: the bonfire and the torches and the fizzing, wheeling whiteness of sparklers. There’s the reflection of the moon as well, perfectly white and round and seemingly no more than an arm’s-length away. Touchable. But it’s all so quiet. None of the noise–the shouting and the fireworks and whoops and shrieks of people playing in the shallows–none of it carries even an inch underwater. When she yells and waves her arms all she hears are deep, interior echoes.”
A set of three very short stories about different kinds of drowning. Shortlisted for the Wasafiri New Writing Prize, and published in the competition anthology. Purchase a copy here.