In This Pond
The water is cold against my belly button and I’m afraid a waterborne parasite will swim up my urethra. I cup a hand over my penis. I never thought a pond in the mid-Connecticut woods could be threatening, but the discomfort is probably only mine. Bruce, Olivia, and Belle don’t seem fazed — they’re looking ahead at the few hundred yards of water roiling beyond their naked forms, at the dirt and pebbles breaking over the water’s surface with every kick of their feet, and talking about the universe.
“The Big Bang,” Olivia says, now staring at the sky, “is literally magic. Nothing in existence except for this infinitely small singularity, and then — BOOM! The whole fucking universe is here. Makes you feel tiny, doesn’t it?”
Bruce gives his signature giggle that signals he’s in the mood to entertain one of Olivia’s philosophical outbursts. Belle is more enthusiastic, chiming, “Yes, it does!” as she leans over to bear-hug Olivia.
I feel out of place. Apart from thinking too much, I haven’t said or done anything in a few minutes, which means that the others have probably noticed. If you just stand here looking like a half-suicidal schlep, they’ll stop being friends with you, I think to myself. So I focus on what’s around me and try to summon up a witty remark.
Above me, there’s a silver moon that looks round enough to be full, but Belle classified it…
