People say their life flashes before their eyes in the last moments, but that’s not what happens. My life isn’t what I see. It’s Glyndon smiling. I always liked her sweet little smile, probably because it was rarely ever directed at me. She’s smiling at me now, calling my name, but I can’t hear her. A commotion snaps me from the image that I was enjoying. The water stops and I twist onto my side, coughing and inhaling air as if through small straws.
