Thomas Webb

Skimmer

The cool early spring night was nearly over. The moon had set almost two hours before, and the dark had settled in the velvety corners of a quiet suburban street. The loudest sound was the gentle burbling of the swimming pool pump, which had been started up just a few days before. The water was mostly still on its surface, with small clumps of sodden leaves gently eddying in the darkness from the current below.