Young Fergus was almost sure that something was not quite right about his evening swim.
But he could not put his finger on it.
No clue as to what wasn’t right. He kept searching his trousers and anorak pockets while trying to remember what he had forgotten…
I remember the days, last summer, when this place was the only thing that kept me going while I was getting tormented in the Mistake Factory. It helped me to get through another hellish day. The promise of a cold dive into the deep, indifferent sea. And everything seemed better.
Today I went for a swim after my day in the Repair Factory. And it was just as enjoyable as it was last summer.
Without the torture bit in lieu of foreplay…