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  • The Paris Review

    Somehow

    Mar 15, 2018 4 minutes
    DANIELLE DUTTON

    Somehow, they were swimming in the canals. Later this part seemed hazy, but somehow they were all there: Lila, her little boy, and James, a former student. Whether James had arrived with Lila and her son or was simply also there enjoying the day is unclear, but at some point it became clear that they were there together.

    It was a popular place to swim, so close to the city, with shops and cheap bars on the wharf above. Lila was conscious of having on her shabbiest swimsuit: flesh colored, a one piece. It had lost its elasticity yet was strangely smaller than when she had bought it. Her breasts were there, somehow, in a way he’d not been before. Her son was a fine swimmer. Little eel. His little-boy skin glistening in the light. He laughed and laughed, and James laughed with him. She watched them from a distance. A seagull floated past. She’d started her period that morning and wondered if when she got out of the water the crotch of her suit would be red. Her breasts felt huge, misshapen even. James looked over and smiled.

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    Acknowledges
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