Not yet buoyant, and finding the water still warmer than the air, or maybe it was only the air getting cooler, the girls lowered themselves to the last step down. The skimmer door thumped with a drowned-sounding gurgle. When Ellen’s hand arced backward Betsy recoiled, understanding…

This story of the week at Narrative is by my wonderful advisor, Abby Frucht, who has helped guide the direction of my work in more helpful ways than I can ever express.