144 - hold better

he tiles that lined the interior of the pool were pearly white. David opted to not remove his disgusting overalls before jumping in. With a huge volley of water displaced by his plunge, he broke the tranquility of the water's surface.

The cold water felt extremely good. He watched as the aqua blue changed color around him. A black cloud was diffusing from his body and his clothes, as if he had an octopus hidden under his overalls. Occasionally, a whole globule of the black ink would escape intact, an oily bubble floating away and waiting to pop.

He swam around gently in the pool, moving carefree through the water. He kept emitting his cloud of murkiness as he moved, until he had traced the perimeter of the pool a few times. By then, either all of the loose dirt and grime had come off of him, or the color of the water had darkened enough that he could no longer tell the difference between the clean and dirty water.

At this point, David finally decided to remove all of his clothes, and placed them on the deck of the pool. If swimming around had felt good before, then it felt sublime now that he was totally unencumbered. Though he had neither soap nor shampoo, he took advantage of the chlorinated water to cleanse himself as well as he could from head to toe.

He hadn't been this clean in months. He relaxed in the water for a few more minutes, but as the time ticked on, he became aware that he was essentially sitting in a large vat of his own filth. Thus he made his way toward the steps, and the little black lines forming as the watermark on the sides of the pool reminded him of how filthy he had been.

David spread his wet clothes out across the lounge chairs. They were still stained, but they were at least cleaner than they had been before. He wanted to let the sun dry them out, and in this heat it seemed like the big yellow orb in the sky would accomplish that task quickly enough.

Wearing nothing, he wandered toward the large house the swimming pool obviously belonged to. Though not quite a mansion, the size of this dwelling told David that the occupants certainly lived comfortably enough.

The sliding glass door gave way easily, and David found himself in the room he wanted to be in: the kitchen. The refrigerator held a bounty of expensive foodstuffs he hadn't ever seen before. Fine cheeses and exclusive cuts of meats were in rich supply, and there was a selection of fruits and vegetables which he couldn't even name.

He was not looking to cook a gourmet meal. He lacked the knowhow and the patience. His stomach grumbled angrily--it wanted to be fed now. He considered just biting into some of the blocks of cheese, or raiding the cupboards to see if there were any quick snacks like potato chips.

But in the fridge, David did spy a few familiar ingredients. He grabbed at a loaf of bread and jars of peanut butter and jelly. He would make himself a sandwich.

Ransacking the drawers until he found a knife, he placed two slices of bread down onto the countertop. Crumbs spilled everywhere. He unscrewed the lids of the peanut butter and jelly jars, and applied liberal amounts of both to the bread.

David smushed the two pieces of bread together, and he had himself a rather nice-looking sandwich. His mouth was already watering. He opened his jaw up wide, and took a big bite.

It was stale.