It must have been summer, if I was already going to school, if I had time to go camping. An eight-bed room. For a while there was some coloured paper saying I came third in the singing contest. There was some fat boy who swallowed an insect every lunchtime for a dare. A glass of water on the waxy tablecloth.
Nobody can be that lonely.
There was water still in the pool, water and frogs, and one of them pulled one out and cut up its mouth with a knife. They stuck it head first into the mud, just the glassy legs hanging out, standing up out of the ground. Protruding and twitching. I was the smallest. I can t ask if I can pull it out that would only make it worse.