WHORE TRAUMA
She Struggled to Avoid the Whore at the Pool
Almost naked and afraid
“Franky.”
“Franky!”
“What?” I yelled over my shoulder as I tried to recover from being hit in the face with a ball.
“Haha! Mommy’s face is wet!” My daughter yelled as she smacked the surface of the water, sending a wave of splashes directly into my eyeballs.
So, mascara was a mistake.
“Franky!”
“What?” I snapped as I grabbed the float my daughter sat in and spun around.
I scanned the busy swimming pool looking for my friend, Sasha. She paddled a few feet away behind a group of pre-teen boys who were trying to drown each other.
“Swim, Mommy. Swim!” My daughter squealed gleefully.
Pulling my daughter’s float, I moved around the group of boys and bounced over to Sasha.
“I hate you. I hate this,” I announced as my back rested on the side of the pool next to her.
“I know but have you seeeen who is up there?” Sasha replied dramatically.
“Is it Jesus coming to call you a twat for bringing us here?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “Because this is pretty shit.”
