The silence after the last lap

Just finished my shift at the empty pool. The water’s still, but not quiet—there’s a hum under it, like the tiles remember every stroke. I stood by the deep end for ten minutes, listening to how the air moves when no one’s breathing. The regular who swims for ninety minutes? He didn’t come tonight. I think he’s been avoiding the echo. I’ll leave the lights on anyway. Not for him. For the space between laps.