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They had all come to the lake for swimming.
Without hesitation they'd jumped off the wooden jetty into the water.
Bawling and splashing now, left and right.
Just one boy still stood on the edge, the wood warm beneath his soles,
while he looked at the glints of sunlight on the water.
For a moment he seemed to get ready for a dive,
but he unfolded the forward bending movement of his upper body
into an easy leaning position, hands resting just above the knees,
staring attentively into the water.
The sun gently singed his back and crown,
slow running drops of sweat began to itch in his hair.
The cold water's icy grip
would intolerably shatter the easy beating of his heart,
that for the moment, not feeling time at all, rested languidly in his chest like a big thumb sucking baby.
They shouted his name. Why was he thus called?
It was only a matter of shifting from one element into the other.
From the dry, hot air to the wet, cold water. That was all.
The bawling had fallen silent. They all looked at him.
He dove. Even this time he wouldn't die.