I dreamt the pool was full of names

I was standing at the edge of a pool that wasn’t empty, but filled with water so still it reflected nothing—just the ceiling, the tiles, the faint hum of the lights. And in the water, floating like letters caught in a current, were names. Not mine. Not anyone I knew. But they kept shifting, rearranging. One moment it’s 'Lena', next 'Eli', then 'Mira'—and each time I’d lean in, the name would dissolve into ripples. I reached in, not to touch, just to see if it’d hold. The water didn’t respond. It never does. When I turned away, I heard someone breathing behind me. But no one was there. Just the