Flying. A beautiful feeling that a human can only achieve when they’ve either fallen or jumped. I did both.
My hectic world immediately quieted as dove underwater. For a few seconds at least, I could feel peace, water bubbles ticking my toned arms.
My peace was violently interrupted as I reached air. I turned, scanning the gym, trying to find my coach. I spotted him as soon as he spotted me. He smiled and held up both arms, his personal signal for an excellent dive. I climbed out of the pool, water droplets swimming from my hair to the floor.
I grab a towel, attempting to at least partially dry my sopping black hair.
“Great dive, Tom! Just remember to keep your dive angle a little higher.” He said, illustrating the proper negative 45 degree angle with his arms.
“Sure, coach.”
“I think that’s enough for one day, don’t wanna get you stuck in a dive position all day.” He patted my shoulder.
I smiled, stiffening my legs. “Oh no… It’s happening…” I slowly let myself fall forward, catching myself before I actually fell.
Coach laughed. “Daley, I don’t know what we’re going to do with you.”
“You’re going to make me win another gold medal, that’s what.” I winked, exiting the room, and almost running into a very short figure.
A story I'm writing for my friend! Follow her! She's the dedicationee
