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O sat on the concrete edge of the pool, toes feet shins sweeping through icy water. She glanced around for a familiar face and, recognising no-one, plunged silently into the blue. Her soles kissed the sandpaper floor. She held herself there for a moment before allowing her body to be lifted gently back to the surface.
She lay on her back and drifted, as was her habit, to the centre point of the circular pool. With outstretched toes she reached for the floor, but the pool was at its deepest here and she’d never managed to touch the bottom.
O tread water and looked at the people around her; a young family with a deflated plastic crocodile, men with tight goggles and loose shorts. All Westerners, she observed, without feeling.
The place was falling to pieces. White paint flaked from the walls and was scuffed into the water by running children. These soggy flakes bobbed around at the edges, unheeded by the lifeguards and caretakers who had long since disappeared. The old tin roof had been…

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