Day Seven: the pool (warning — this is raw unedited text, not for the faint-hearted…)

She pushes the swimming pool cover back, cups the frog in her hand and scooping a handful of water, laps it over the rim. It waddles away unhurriedly. The cool against her chest as she dips herself in, naked. Crazy as a Saturday night dream, a dangerous dream, full of wine and music, a dream where you get into the car with the stranger, and he’s taking you you don’t know where, and there’s something about his story that doesn’t make sense, and he tells her to take off her wedding ring. Understanding falls into…