A pencil skimmed against paper, cutting a jagged grove as the point marked a square around the advertisement.
Days spent slowly skimming debris from the two-dozen pools of the water park? All those toned girls in their sodden bikinis, swarming around the water in the sun? As jobs went, it was a good one. There was only one problem.
“It’s off season in February.”
He went to cross a line through the ad but a crash from the living room stopped his cigarette-burnt hand. Trembling, he reached for the phone.
“Dad needs the money.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016
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