A Comfy Kind Of Restless

Hello!

It’s time for me to reveal what I came up with for the final part of this short story that I’ve been writing over 5 days, using the words that I roll with my Haikubes!

(Here are parts one, two, three and four that I ‘prepared earlier’, so you know what I’m talking about here!!)

Again I generated nine words that I had to use:

But I must make a small confession and admit that I took a total of 21.5 mins instead of 20 mins to write the part in blue (I managed to include 8 out of the 9 words in 20 mins though), then wrote the bit in purple in a further 3 mins (as I thought that particualr loose end needed to be addressed!). 

Hope you like it anyway!

Desperate   Love   But   Those   My   Tangle   Under   He   Shelter

Myla was suddenly some sort of aquatic acrobat.  Barely holding the pool noodle, she went back and forward in the water with a big smile on her face, eagerly heeding every command her instructor gave her – and gaining praise from all her little classmates into the bargain.

She was also beaming up at me at every opportunity, as if I was her best friend or something.  Her instructor kept giving me the thumbs up too, however, so I just decided to enjoy it all.

This tactic was going really well, until Myla decided to let go of her noodle, and slip like a seal under the water…

I stood up immediately, heart in my throat.  I could see her glide towards the bottom and turn around, but then she seemed to just stop.  The seconds ticked by, and I began waving both my hands above my head, pointing in an increasingly desperate way to her [seemingly] wiggly pink form at the bottom of the pool.

My feet started to move as I saw the instructor dive off the side…

Sarah and I charged down the steps, through the changing room and out onto the poolside; at a sprint I wasn’t even aware I was capable of.  Love is a powerful motivator.  We rounded the pillar by the foot-baths just in time to see Myla being hauled out of the water as if she weighed no more than a backpack, and some more of the complex staff running to take care of the other kids standing wide-eyed in the shallows.

I’m not sure, but I think I screamed as Myla was turned over onto her side, and I could see her eyes were closed.  Those memories that everyone says flash in their mind’s eye were definitely slide-showing through mine as I finally sank to my knees beside my child.

The instructor was moving the tangle of her ponytail from her cheek, and I instinctively started rubbing her back the way I had done when she’d had wind as a baby.  As I did so, she started coughing up a load of chlorine water, and I could see her eyeballs move under her lids.

Later, I managed to get her to our doctor as his last appointment of the day.  As he’d looked over her, the instructor had tried to reassure me that he thought Myla’s banged bonce was not too serious, but I just wanted to be sure.

I did have something to smile about, however, after the shock abated a little: out of concern, Myla’s instructor had slipped me his number (through the general emotion and panic I’d displayed).  It had taken shelter in my purse and, later that night, I was going to make that call…

A further bit of good news, on the Myla front, is that she has decided she wants to be a swimming instructor! Marco (isn’t that just a dreamy name?!) has totally proved my point to her: that swimming gives you superpowers, apparently!

So I’ll have to find some way to repay him for that little gem, too…

Annnd…that’s a wrap!! 

Was that noodle-y enough for you all?!  Did it display ‘a desire for’ something  enough…?

Let me know what you think in the comments, or by visiting one of my social media pages linked below. 

As is so often the case, I enjoyed writing this wee story; and I’m already devising how to tweak the method for the next one…thanks to Jane for the inspo!

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