The trip would be flawless - water splashing, echoed shrieks in chlorinated sunlight - except for these baffling creatures patrolling the pool
Up and down they go, up and down, staring daggers straight ahead and daring you to get in their way
Rubber hats and plastic eyes, folded skin, wrinkled like deflated dinghies doggedly paddling their pointless journeys.
A bit like clockwork bath toys, but not as entertaining.
The safety notices are wasted on them. No petting? I should ****** well think not. Bombing? Ducking? Anything fun at all? Up, down, up and down. Relentless as the baddies in a ZX Spectrum game, stuck in their lanes, joyless.
They were there when I was six and they're still there, you know, a few more wrinkles now, up (and down), spilling out their black slick second skins. Whatever it was they were looking for, the search isn't improving their moods.