It began at a sports bar, the kind of place the realtor would call "happy-go-lucky." In other words, if your barstool wasn't sticky, assume it had just been swabbed clean by CSI. There was graffiti on ... [+]
Karen Fayeth was born with the eye of a writer and the heart of a story-teller. She lives in the Bay Area, and can be found online at karenfayeth.com "Swim, Swam, Swan" was selected as a finalist in BART Lines contest, 2022.
I stand by my front door with car keys in hand, flip-flops on my feet, panic in my heart."Let me get this right: I am going to take this gigantic menopausal body," I wave my hand like a Price is Right model to denote ALL of this jelly, "and I am going to strip down to a swimsuit, in front of strangers, and I am going to get into a swimming pool?""That does seem to be your plan, yes," says my husband with his signature combination of bemusement and inscrutability."I see. Well. Here I go."I haven't been to a public swimming pool for at least twenty years. Maybe more. On this day, I'm headed to w