This is my entry for August's 100 Word Story (No Repeats!) contest.
My Turn
Jackie selects her target, fills well-trained lungs, submerges, and thrusts strongly away from the wall. Kicking smoothly, she closes in, avoiding all contact with every intervening, randomly-flailing limb. Bodies interpose themselves incessantly, necessitating constant, minor course corrections.
Youthful, yet deep-seated hatred powers each stroke. Memories of daily, spirit-crushing put-downs contribute their own useful energy, remembered spiteful insults fuel fierce determination. Revenge would be sweet.
Nearer - veering left, right. Brain now screaming for oxygen - almost there! Vision blurring - so close! This one? YES!
Ten eager fingers grasp billowing nylon, yanking downward, exposing - a second swimsuit? NO-O-O-O!
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