You were drowning. I saw you. A leaf falling from a tree. No breeze. No current. A slow descent until you stopped. I blinked. I waited. MOVE. You didn't. So I called out. Screamed my controlled scream. And they scooped you up. Lay you out. You were not dead. Just nearly.
After the fuss, after the squeezing, listening for breath, the squeezing again and that welcome cough of yours, that tiny eruption of vomit and the ambulance coming and going again...it is quiet. The water lapping. My network of eyes - like a fly's, just like a fly's- watching, waiting, watching.