Their scrawny, gaunt figures

stalk down the concrete steps

toward the end

of the creaky, wooden dock.

The summer wind ruffles

their short hair

like the feathers on a

flight-bound seagull.

Sunshine glances off of

the wet boards of the dock,

forcing them to shield their eyes

against the blinding light.

They are in the water now.

Deep, endless water.

Splashing, kicking, laughing.

They pull themselves onto

the homemade diving block and stand

on the edge of the turf-covered wood,

prepared to dive.

Within seconds I am running,

creating my own wind,

the old dock moaning under my bare feet.

"I want to race!" My voice echoes.

"No girls allowed!" My brother

barely looks up from the water

before he dives.

I stop running

and clench my teeth in frustration.

Six furious splashes

match the angry thumping

in my chest.

No girls allowed.

No girls allowed.