'Strokes' by Petra Reid

it’s been so many times I know that it’s exactly eleven strokes from here to the end of the pool and if I can just get there before the hand on the Speedo clock reaches 12 I’ll be in the team for Saturday but as my fingertips reach for the overhanging lip as I make my last propulsive move my stomach cramps it’s agony agony as the second hand beats me to the 12 and I hear coach say what the hell is wrong with you Paige you’re nowhere near the qualifying time not your finest hour just get dressed and go home so I do even though there’s blood on my costume she’s losing her pre-puberty puppy fat advantage Mum tells Dad at teatime like I can’t hear let her eat as much as she wants now I’m twenty-two and I eat as much as I want because I’ll never beat the relentless sweep of the second hand on its way to 12 again it’s been so many times I know it’s exactly eleven strokes from here to the-