The image of your pearly teeth swirls around my head, just as the water in my shower drain, or the razor-thin ripples on top of the cotton-candy blue water. Standing beneath the steady stream, the cool metal drain is no more than a perfect pathway of pipe, a vacant channel suited for you, the epitome of fish, to wriggle its way up, the end goal- my foot, or perhaps an entire limb. Standing above my aquatic playground, toes grip around the thin plank of sandpaper springboard. Surely, I just saw the tip of your dorsal fin peak the surface, or the faint shadow of your heinous figure looming at the bottom of the chlorine? Balanced catlike on the board I sway, knees knocking, hesitant to make the leap. And while my face goes white with every clank of the pipe, my knees go weak as I jump, half-willingly from the safety of my perch towards the inevitability of my end in your monstrous jaws.

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