The Weekday One Hundred

I sat next to my son at the edge of the pool, our feet dangling in the cool water. The first day of summer was not to be wasted.

But then she showed up.

She floated through our white wooden picket fence, settling near the diving board.

Our jaws dropped. We’d never seen a ghost before. Certainly not one that was tall and curvy and wearing a two-piece. She then dropped her towel and began untying her bikini top.    

I clamped my hand over my son’s eyes.

“See any of that?” I asked.

He shook his head aggressively.

“Good answer.”