The Worst That Could Happen

Scribblers News

I am going to call the piece I have posted here today, contemporary poetry or if you don't think it is that, (I am quite new to this modern stuff) then let us say that it is just a piece of Flash Fiction, because it is in fact exactly 500 words long and that is very often what is required in that field.

What it also is, in truth, is a race report from last Saturday, so if you don't reckon it as poetry and you don't like short stories then it is just a diary entry again.  

The Worst That Could Happen

Well, we do hear about the horrible things

that people do to other people.

The papers are full of dreadful stories

and so I understand why

my friends and family

worry about me now;

now that I am so old.

Here I am still doing things

that some people,

some a lot younger than me,

gave up attempting years ago.

You must be more careful.

That is the most common thing I hear.

Remember you are not twenty one any more

The thing is,

I like what I do

And while I can

I will go on doing it.

Last Saturday I had great fun with my friends.

We took a train to the Isle of Wight

Lots of people do that right?

Admittedly, most of them do not

bung their clothes in a bag,

stick it on the back of a van

to be transported

to the place where they will

finally arrive; after they

have swum across the bay

from Sandown Pier to where Shanklin Pier

used to be before the Great Storm destroyed it!

It was a 1.8 mile swim

without the buoyancy of a wetsuit,

they are clearly frowned upon

by the organisers of the event.

Don’t be so daft one person said to me.

Daft is it? It is not the first visit.

My friends and I look upon this

as a fun day out together,

a club outing.

We have done it for years.

Mind you, there was a moment

when I couldn’t see any other swimmers

anywhere near me, or safety canoes,

or the lifeboat for that matter.

What’s the worst that could happen?

I asked myself.

Well, I am 78 years old.

What if I got terrible cramp?

What if a got Hypothermia?

What if I had a stroke?

What if…….

A Great White Shark ate me?

There had been a sighting

off Hayling Island

five miles away

mentioned on the BBC South today news.

I had taken that with a pinch of salt,

probably just Basking Sharks;

they only eat plankton.

How do they know,

that I am not plankton.

Must be the smell I suppose.

If I were to be totally honest

I did feel better toward the end of the swim

When I saw a safety canoe close by me.

He pointed the right route out with his oar,

telling me that I was a little off course.

In actual fact, three much younger,

Muuuuuch faster swimmers than me

Did get very cold.

Uncontrollably shiveringly cold.

Even though they were in the water

a lot less time than me.

There was soup and bread at the finish.

No showers available

No changing rooms.

It was sort of communal changing

in the boat house,

each facing the walls

and not looking at each other bits.

The best part

for us lot from Littlehampton,

was that we were presented with

some pretty smart but old silverware.

We did really clean up,

with four trophy’s between us.

Nice. Good work.