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Rescue Chickens

The Kindness of Strangers

Does my arse look fat in this soul?

The demon of paranoia re-visits old Sket

On The Road......

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2007-04-14 - 12:24 p.m.

Y'know, parents should really think before they tell their small offspring weird throwaway stuff. This is an old story but I guess it's time to bring it over here to store for eternity (or however long this shit lasts). It's a quick story and it concerns one of my bizarre phobias bought about by a throwaway comment made by my mother when I was a wee Sketty.

...As for the story itself, I am certain that once I explain the situation properly you might be inclined to give ME the sympathy that went to the poor people from the yacht - but I will get to that soon.

Ok, I am a very strong swimmer and I do enjoy swimming. UNFORTUNATELY I don't like water that I cannot see through clearly! I hate unseen things touching my legs and my rather fertile imagination works overtime on double pay and will not stop for anything - Logic? What the feck's that? It all started when, as a small child, I asked my mother why she wouldn't come into the sea with me. Being a non-swimmer wanting to sunbathe and wishing her small annoying brat (me) to piss off she just said, distractedly 'oh because the sea is full of dead sailors'.....

The Present Day (a few years ago, actually)

The day in question was one during which I had gone on holiday to one of the Greek Islands with my friend Katherine. It was a beautiful and blistering hot day and we had signed up to go to a beach party on a secluded beach that would require a journey on a yacht.

Fine, lovely in fact!

Anyhoo, I had a long t-shirt on due to not wanting burn and then be forced to watch my skin fall off (as the skin on my legs was threatening to do). The yacht anchored just away from the shore and those who wanted to swim to the beach were told to just jump over board whilst anyone else should get into the small boat with the supplies.

The sea was beautiful - brilliant blue and so clear that you could see to the very bottom (which makes my problem seem all the more ridiculous to be honest......) *Cough*, other than my Mother, I further blame Steven King and that short story he did with the blob in the lake (she added almost clutching at straws to find a reason for it all/someone else to blame).

Well, most of the other passengers slipped into the water as did Katherine. Being a bit of a wimp I did the toe first thing before just biting the bullet and slipping into the freezing water.

As I struck out to start swimming (*deep breath*, here we go) a large air bubble which had become caught in my t-shirt kinda *blubbed* from the top all the way down my body.

..........I shrieked!

My phobia-raddled brain told me that as I hadn't actually studied the water before getting in, a drowned sailor (or other drowned person - my brain didn't say which) had touched me.

.....I know, I know! It gets worse (as my stories tend to)

I practically RAN across the surface of the sea shrieking all the way. Mark Spitz? He couldn't have kept up with me if his arse was on fire. I overtook Katherine at speed (still shrieking) and she also started to shriek and swim as fast as she could.

I soon overtook everyone who had gone before me and who in turn started to swim for their lives screaming as loudly as they could! People floundered, people found hidden strength and people swam in total fear...

We made it to the beach at top speed, most people on their backs panting - apart from the brave ones standing at the waters edge shouting for the stragglers to swim faster, or running out to help pull them to safety.

...I dunno what they thought; maybe that Jaws was out there, or a school of jellyfish.......maybe even one of those weird deep sea ugly things that threaten to tear people limb from limb.

Finally the questions started. I will remember those startled and exhausted faces until the day I die.

'What the hell was it?'

'Don't know, I didn't see a thing!'

'Who saw it?'

....Their inquisitive eyes finally fell on me (I didn't know any of them which was worse)

With a small and weak voice I had to admit that I (cough) erm, 'thought' that a dead sailor had touched me.......

I think 'stunned silence' covers the general atmosphere.

At least Katherine was still my friend, although she advised that we sit by the rocks away from the rest of the crowd and that maybe it wouldn't be a good idea for us to join in with the sing-song around the fire.....

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