High Dive

At the pool, a man with a giant belly and thick legs and a hard chest jutting beyond his nose, his back thick with rolls, climbs the latter to the high dive on tip toes and walks to the end of the board as casual as if he were walking to the store.

His kingdom of fleshy sun stroked pilgrims splash and dive and holler far below, paying him no attention.  The life guards sit in their tall chairs ambivalent behind their dark glasses.  He bounces, once, twice, the board yielding to his weight, and hearing a gasp as the board snaps straight, he flies through the hushed awe, his body a molecule of wonder as he falls, separating wind from water, the crashing at the gate, he is encased with the punctuation of his grace.

He emerges to hear the final breath of their collective admiration, as he flashes a smile at the life guard who acknowledges him only by wiping his splash from her face.

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