My Swimming Trunks Have Been Sucked Off ^hot^ -

And then, nothing.

The immediate aftermath is characterized by a distinctive psychological arc: My Swimming Trunks Have Been Sucked Off

“Alright. Fine. My swimming trunks have been sucked off. Time to get them back.” And then, nothing

In the split second between realization and reaction, I catalogued possibilities like a nervous archivist. Swim closer to shore. Hold onto the waistband and invent a new kind of victory lap. Duck under and let the current do the explaining. I did none of these; instead I chose the most human response available to me: I laughed. Not the brittle, quick laugh people produce to ward off shame, but a full, startled laugh that held a little defiance. Water filled my mouth and the sound rounded out like a bell. but a full