I dreamt the pool was full of names

I was standing at the edge, and the water wasn’t water—it was a slow-moving archive of names, all whispered in different voices. Some were familiar, some I’d never heard, but they kept rising like bubbles, then sinking again. I reached in and pulled out one—my own name, but spelled wrong. Not a mistake, just… altered. The silence after that felt heavier than any dive. When I woke up, the ceiling still hummed with it.