“Grab the wine.” Dean shouted across from where he has just done his tenth lap of the pool. I had been hoping for a swim myself but him being him barks orders even on holiday. We had rented the villa for two weeks he reckoned it was a treat for our upcoming 5th wedding anniversary, I reckoned it was away to make me forget about yet another affair.

We had been here for a just over a week and after spending so much time on his phone saying that it was work, he announced the night before we might be able to stay an extra week. “You deserve the break and I want to treat you.” Is what he said. “My latest affair is causing me more trouble that I thought she would.” Is what I heard.

Of course I had no proof, but it was always the same with him. Ever since we had met 6 years previous. He had just come out of a high class meeting for work and I was just leaving the office block as he was getting into his car. Things had gone well for him and he had wanted to celebrate. “You,” he said walking over to me in that cocky manner that at the time I loved and now drives me to want to commit a crime. “Come for a drink with me. Everyone else is too boring at my age and I want to celebrate. I had stupidly said yes. Looking back now I honestly don’t know what I did. I had never been one to just go off with a man, but there was something about him. We spent that weekend together looked away in a hotel, then he told me he had to return to his wife. I had felt so stupid at the time, but it was a week later that he was outside my work again telling me that he had left her and wanted to spend his life with me.

I had thought that his marriage had been in trouble and that with me he had found a way out. I was sure that if our relationship remained good, he would be good. I had been wrong.

Making my way through the sliding doors of the french villa, I walked over to the big American style fridge. It was as I opened the door that I noticed his phone plugged in on the kitchen island. He had never, in all these years been so careless. So that either meant that the affair was over, or that there wasn’t one to being with. Grabbing the bottle of white from the fridge I closed the door, my mind blank as I reached for his phone. I typed out the only set of numbers I could think of to unlock it. Of course, most people use the birthdays of the people that they love, anniversary maybe, but the self centred people in this world however use their own birthday.

I scrolled quickly until I found his messages, if I took much longer I knew that he would come looking for me. He would come any second if he realised he left his phone on the side. A noise in the doorway had me jumping back dropping the phone on the hard counter. I span around quickly wondering if I might be able to get away with saying that I hadn’t been looking at his phone at all. He had been known to let his temper fly from time to time, and although this holiday he had been in a relatively good mood, I was aware that at any moment that could change.

Turning fully so that I could press my back against the island, I thought that might be enough to hide the phone and make him forget. “I was just com.....” I stopped babbling as soon as I realised no one was there. The small footsteps over the tiled floor had me looking down. “Minnie, you scared mummy.” A wave of relief washed over me as I bent down to pat the 4 year old chihuahua. It had been a present from Dean for my 40th. Not having any children and most definitely no plans, she was my world. Scooping her up in my arms I turned back towards the phone.

Clicking on the messages my already fast heartbeat seemed to quicken further. They were all there, the messages from what looked like 5 different women were there for anyone to see. I started at the top one. Clicking the name Clara I read quickly. He was trying to end this relationship, “too clingy” he had said when he sent the last message this morning. She had wanted too much from him. I moved down the messages, scanning over the next few I found the same thing. He was ending them. He said he could no longer commit to seeing them. It was the last one though that got to me. I realised quickly it was this last one that had got him running away from the others faster than a racing car sets off from the start line. She had got him cornered. Pictures of the two of them together and that was not all. Looking back over older messages, she worked with him and closely due to the amount of information on tax fraud she held over him. There were countless messages saying that with one quick message to a number of people who she knew, his life would be over. She also knew a few of the people that he owed money too, and judging by what she said these weren’t people that could or should be messed with. My husband had picked wrong this time. Apart of me felt something that resembled satisfaction that he had finally gone for someone who could give him what he deserved.

Placing the phone back down where he had left it and placing the dog back on the ground, I picked up the bottle of wine. Opening the draw in the island I retrieved the corkscrew before making my way outside. He was at the closest end of the pool to me when I made it back outside. His arms outstretched across the pools edge, head back and eyes closed with his face in the french sun. We had been on holiday a few times here over the years, and it did hold so many special memories. As I made my way quietly over to him I knew that this place would hold one last one for me. The moment I got free.

Grasping the corkscrew in my right hand I moved silently and quickly. He didn’t stand a chance in the end. The tool was jabbed in the centre of his throat quicker than I had done anything before. He lurched forward hands grasped to what was left of his windpipe, blood oozed through his hands and down into the water. It happened quicker that I thought it would, he slipped under in what felt like seconds and within a minute or two more she was back up to the top this time face down and floating. He was gone. I had killed my husband without a second thought. I honestly didn’t know what this man had made me become.

I rushed back inside, my little Minnie running beside me yapping in the cute little way she did when she was excited. I knew that if we both moved fast by the time anyone found Dean floating me and Minnie would be long gone.

He had never really liked his life. He was a ‘he’, but they painted his nails and put tiny bows in his hair. When he wanted to run, be free, he was often lifted as if some alien spacecraft was abducting him and put into one of their purses where each time he almost suffocated between the leaking bottles of sample perfumes and the disinfectant bleach wipes in which the packaging had become slightly ripped. Probably from those long, pointed, neon, sparkly bedecked nails. He shivered, but he wasn’t cold. He let the thought go. He had made an escape, as the air filled floating swan had made it to the edge of the pool, he was able to slink towards it and crawl on to it, and with a slight push of his back right leg, he took a slow spin out into the middle of the pool. He was far away from their grasping hands, their needy petting fingers, their creepy, scratching pointed nails. The only good things those hands ever gave him were the organic “Big Beefy Treats”, he may have had too many of them that afternoon, as he felt his stomach turn in an opposite spin of the flotation device. With his back paws he was able to pull the lavender bows that had been pasted behind his ears and if he could he would remove the pink collar with the dangling crystal heart which held his name etched in it: Pepe, from his neck, if he could. Yet, there was no way to completely free himself from those large hairless apes lounging on their lounge chairs. The light splash of the water against the swan was soothing, he let his front legs hang over its edge just so the tips of his feet could feel the cool water. And just when he was about to slumber, he heard a loud screech, “OOOOOOH, look, look how CUTE Pepe is there on the water!” He was surrounded by the family paparazzi, all of them held their cell phones in their hands, clicking and posting, he knew he had become a few-seconds star. He let his head hang lower, a sigh slipped through his hanging tongue. His nose almost touching the water, he thought could a dog drown itself. Probably not, the instincts would king in and he’d doggy paddle to the shallow end and the steps. Then,, his eyes looked up at one of the tables circling the pool, there was a corkscrew on it. Sharp. One way to end it all, this misery of being a Chihuahua. It would have to wait, they were at the edge of the pool, each holding out a “Big Beefy Treat” in their hands. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, a dog (no matter how small) has got to do, what a dog has to do. At least for that treat!

The starlet was blonde. This was the word she embodied, with her big hair towering above her face like a carnal crown of spun sugar melting into the glittery, glossy colors of her heavy war paint. Her false eyelashes made her eyes droop , making her myopic curse even more debilitating as she stumbled around the suite groping for the corkscrew, as her manicured claws gripped a new bottle of something bubbly. In her pink kitten heels, her lack of balance was even more baffling because somehow her top heaviness pivoted in the pointed little slippers, which revealed painted toe nails. “Ah Geez,” she whispered breathlessly when the right foot sunk into the familiar chill of Pepe’s droppings. “Bad dog,” he pink pout repeated as the chihuahua yipped and began zipping around biting her ankles. The blurry actress kicked the poo shoe off, the shit splattering as it twirled in the air then landed upon the white love seat. Between the cushions she saw the silvery glint of the corkscrew and stepped out of the other pink furry shoe to fetch it. “Pepe, you’re a genius. I’m so thirsty.” The tiny dog yapped incessant. She opened the champagne with rare expertise and didn’t bother with a flute. She was in a hurry. She went to the wall where a large full length mirror hung majestically. “You’re a hot mess,” she consoled herself. The bikini underneath her frilly little frock was made of string which made its way into her crevices and felt intrusive. She was headed out to the swimming pool to meet producers, directors, horny agents and whoever had a part of her. Bloody heel, I need some shoes,” she knew there was Jimmy Choos, a pair of leather boots, ballet flats in the bag. “Fuck it, “ I’ll treat myself to some designer flip flops in the gift shop, “ she began to touch up her makeup. Then realized there was a shitty pink slipper on her love seat. What if someone like Quentin T wanted to come back to her room for a drink?”
She picked up the shoe, scurried to the kitchenette scooping up its mate as she went. She threw both into a plastic laundry bag and dragged a wad of paper towels back to the couch to clean up the dog shit. The brown smear wasn’t going away so she tossed a shawl over the arm and spritzed Chanel all over the room until Pepe sought cover under the table. “Serves you right,” she gloated, tipping back the bubbles and belching when she came up for air. “Air,” she said, pulling back the curtains to open the large windows then leaving the sliding door Ajar. She looked over the balcony to see the pool, which was surrounded by bikini clad rivals and slick well groomed men with high balls and low morals. “Just my type,” she said as she threw things into a wicker tote. “Sunglasses, key card, Cosmo, sun block, lip gloss, phone, diaphragm, spray bottle, towel, script..” she looked around lost, “Gift shop...” she movies easier with bar feet, which no one noticed down in the lobby. Her boobs were what no one could take their eyes off of. Worth every cent, she reminded herself, though she hadn’t paid them off yet. The gift shop was overpriced and tacky but she saw a pair of fifty dollar flip flops adorned with gory rhinestone and cursive letters that spelled out Star. She went to the counter with her new pot wear and impulsively added gum, a Godiva candy bar and tiny bottle of nail glitter, which a bored young woman rang up wordlessly. “Oh,” the blonde remembered, I need a couple packs of Virginia Slims, menthols, a big bottle of Evian and some plugs. She went around pulling the water and tampons off the shelves, distracted by big earrings and glittering phone charms. The cashier rang up the smokes, and just seemed to randomly charge the starlet for the waiter and “plugs.” Which had no prices. She bagged these things up as the girl rummaged around in the wicker tote until she found a c note, still rolled up from the blow she was hovering with some camera man and a grip the night before. She took the bag of goodies, threw it in the bag and tore the plastic tag off between the flip flops, which she dropped and slid into. The girl was ready to count back her change. “You keep it,” she told her. The cashier didn’t argue. “Thanks,” she muttered because silly little starlets were rarely so generous. Creep men had to be, which meant the lousy gig in the gift shop was lucrative. “Wish me luck,” the blonde sang as she left. Outside the LA smog and sun were brutal, but not as bad as the traffic crawling along outside on Sunset. She took the last lounger with good rays and a nice line of vision to what was going on poolside. A cabana boy with a big blinding white smile asked her if she wanted a drink. “Oooh,” she cooed, “Strawberry Daiquiri.”
“Should I start a tab, Miss?” “Good idea,” she laid back to read about mind blowing orgasms and eye liner tricks of the trade.

I reclined on my sun lounger like George Michael in the Club Tropicana video. I completed the crossword: 12 down: Chiwawawa took me three goes to spell the damn thing. The lounger was getting more and more deflated but at least I’d found the corkscrew.

I look across the pool at my beautiful trophy girlfriend, as I frivolously take the corkscrew to a third bottle of Chateu Lafite Rothschild.

I don’t even like it, but I know it’s expensive and my ability to waste money seems to be an aphrodisiac to her, sitting there on a sun lounger.

Her regal little asshole chihuahua makes her look like a beautiful underdressed Bond villain, open robed with a bikini and sunglasses on.

I pour the first glass worth of wine into my swimming pool. There goes $500 but so what, it’s worth the feeling.

By now I know my teeth are shaded red like a satiated vampire, and that’s what I am in some way.

A corkscrew floats aimlessly in the pool we inhabit. As she breaks the water, coming up from underneath it; my focus is pulled from that lonely corkscrew and into her face. Accompanied by water running down it, and accented by the gleam of the late night moon. Her smile spread from cheek to cheek, she reached for my face with both of her hands and leaned in moving my face closer to hers for a kiss.

More than one, more than five, let’s call it a make out. The kisses bombarded the edge of the pool, my back was against. Doing her best to demonstrate how fun she could be, we did things she said she’d never done with anyone— That night at the pool. Normally I wouldn’t believe anything like that, everybody says it: “You’re the first person I’ve ever ___ with” or “I don’t usually do this, but you ___” or “I’ve never done this on the first date” take a pick, add a few if you will, but you get the gist.

Here’s the thing though, she was too close to the ‘innocent’ side of the spectrum for me not to believe her words, regardless of the historical evidence I had. Her light paranoia compounded that idea of her inexperience, at-least public inexperience. She didn’t say she’d never done these things, she’d just never done them outside the confines of a bedroom— She’d never met anybody who she couldn’t control herself around. Never met a soul that made her flower sprout like me. Sounds good.

The wine bottle that corkscrew arrived with, was now as empty as my meter for bullshit, and unnecessary noise. Then, the barks of her goddamn chihuahua came in right on cue. A chihuahua that had no business being the pet of a girl as beautiful as her. The very nature of their relationship is almost disrespectful to the beauty ratio. Now, a husky? Yes, that’s far more closer to her style.

A lot of things of beauty or high value might be her style. As they should be. In my eyes at least, aren’t these eyes the only eyes that should matter? Rhetorical. With our highly individual experience and all, that is. The only thing worthwhile at the end of the day is our perspective, our hopes, our dreams, our ideas, our likes and dislikes.

Maybe that’s the wine talking, maybe I’m a little more fucked up than I thought— So, fucked up in fact I’ve left the girl at this physical plane while I breakaway to my mental one; entertaining thoughts that seem more interesting than the moment.

It was a summer day. The hot sidewalk was burning my feet as I walked along it, barefoot, but too young to care or worry about the sensitive bottoms of my feet. Today was my eleventh birthday. I was a preteen! I looked down at my legs as they were walking, a smile forming along my lips. They were freshly shaven and I felt like I could conquer the world. As I walked by Ms. Jennings house, her chihuahua yipped at me and I responded with an earth shattering hair flip, my ginger locks glowing in the sun. Ms. Jennings called out to me, “Happy Birthday, Jennie-Anne.” I smiled and waved, continuing to treat the hot sidewalk as my runway as I made my way to the city swimming pool. The swimming pool. I was going there a new woman. I said goodbye to the frumpy one piece I had worn previously and said hello to the new, light pink tankini from Target. My midsection was showing, my armpits were bare and I was ready to take this pool by storm. I looked back at my mother who was trailing behind me. I had forgotten her existence during my Summer Collection Fashion Show on the way to the pool. She looked back at me with a lopsided and said “you look glowing, Jennie-Anne.” I felt my teeth show, my mom giving me a rare compliment. With my ego now soaring, I scanned to look for my friend, Gemma. When we made eye contact, she ran over and squealed. She was still ten and she had to be jealous of my bare midsection as she was in the dreaded one piece still. “Jennie-Anne, OMG, you’re friggin 11!,” Gemma squealed at me. I responded with another earth shattering hair flip. I linked arms with Gemma and we made our way to the shallow end. I was 11 now. I was too cool to actually swim. I swayed my nonexistent hips as we walked to the stone stairs that led into the water. I looked at the lifeguard on duty who was a hot, blonde buff “dude” and licked my braces and entered the water. I believed every set of eyes was on me. I looked at my mom who putting on tanning lotion and talking with Gemma’s dad. She saw me and smiled. I waved and waded while Gemma talked about how she could not wait to be 11. Then it happened. I felt like a corkscrew twisted in my abdomen. I shrugged and thought that perhaps my body was just adjusting to being more womanly. With a sudden urge to pee, I exited the pool and was met with snickers and giggles. I turned around, confused, and made eye contact as Jimmy Polanski hummed the Jaws theme. My mom rushed to me with a towel. She escorted me to the bathroom and we went home to allow me to wallow in my hormonal pool of embarrassment and puberty.

I walk past the empty swimming pool. Well, there’s a mysterious sludge covering the deep end, but even the rats avoid that like the plague. I click the volume up, clutch my corkscrew closer, and carry on walking.

Khalid’s voice drifts from my earphones and carries me. Past the old school building; past a park that’s nothing but scorched earth; past Mia’s house with its faded green walls. I know I should be trying to conserve my phone’s battery, but I can’t deal with my thoughts today.

I ran out of beta blockers yesterday (thank you, skeletonised Mrs Romero) and I’m praying (not that anyone’s listening) that there’ll be some in the pharmacy. Someone has graffitied “fuck the apocalypse” on a wall. I couldn’t agree with them more. I use the corkscrew to underline the message.

I don’t know how many people are left. I’ve seen one or two, but nobody trusts anyone else anymore. Not since Bennie Knupps bribed his business class into taking over the high school. He’s hoarding all the ready-made meals from the cafeteria and even killed poor Mrs Romero when she tried to get some first aid stuff. He’s using her as a warning. But he didn’t need to make her into a scarecrow- that’s just excessive. I used the corkscrew to cut away the ropes holding her in place. Just because I hated geography doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve respect.

I also don’t know how many bombs were dropped. Too many? That orange toddler of a president was too busy shaking hands with Nazis and scrolling through Twitter to realise what was happening. The first explosion hit the White House. Not gonna lie- I cheered when it happened. After that communication became nearly impossible and the body count soared. So many towns wiped off the map. How much longer until the power goes out permanently?

I pass Susan, my old neighbour, and her chihuahua Brutus. She’d always offer me cookies- now she only offers me a snarl. I don’t know who gave her the idea to make some dentures out of rats’ teeth, but I hate them. I flash my corkscrew at her, and she shuts her mouth.

Yes! There’s the pharmacy. Abandoned. Looking down, I can still see the stain on the sidewalk where I cooked an egg. I thought it wouldn’t work. It worked a little too well. The smell and sizzle attracted a hoard of cockroaches. I let them have it. Concrete is a bad seasoning anyway. It wasn’t a total fail- I found my handy corkscrew in the gutter.

Okay, aisle nine. I can see where the meth-heads have taken the painkillers and cough syrup and a whole bunch of other drugs. Someone’s even ravaged the vitamin aisle. The end of the world doesn’t mean the end of flu season. There aren’t any prescription anxiety meds left. I settle for homeopathic stuff.

Someone is in here with me. Where’s my corkscrew?

Benny was the name， of the chihuahua， more wild than tame because she liked benedict eggs. It was winter，scenery was nice. There was a swimming pool， Benny wanted to dive. Benny thought- bro it's glistening light went up in her eyes. Benny kicked a corkscrew， it broke the ice. Benny thought， if i cannot swim， i'll go gaze at some kites. How fucking nice😂

2:47PM only three more minutes until school is finally out for summer and Kayla couldn’t wait . Not only was this the last summer before she starts high school but this is the first summer that she gets to go to the swimming pool alone . 

  The swimming pool isn’t just a regular swimming pool you see , it’s the spot where everything happens and everyone is . The swimming pool is only for the prettiest of girls and hottest of guys so if you get invited, you are so in ! Your life can change for better or for worst at the pool and Kayla was just about to find out how true that was . 

  “Where’s my pink biking top Mom ?!”, screamed Kayla as she tried to hurry and get ready before Amanda and Carla came to pick her up . 

“I put it in your second drawer where it belongs Honey, not on your bathroom floor where you always seem to leave it “, said Kayla’s mom. A loud honk came from outside and as Kayla looked out the window she seen both her friends Amanda and Carla chasing after Tiny, Amanda’s pet chihuahua. Tiny is terrified of water so whenever she hears the word “pool” she tends to freak out . As Kayla rushes downstairs her dad hands her his lucky corkscrew and she looks at him very confused and says , “Uhhh thanks Dad ? I think ? “ He responds, “ Kayla I had this corkscrew in my pocket the day I met your mother our first day at the swimming pool and I’ve been in love ever since . You take it and you go fall in love”

  It’s time . The pool is open and it’s packed with the coolest of kids , in walks Kayla and her girls and the day couldn’t be better . Until . Kayla felt a wet spot on her leg and backside and when she went to touch it a “not so cool kid” screamed, “Ewwww Kayla got her period !!!!” 

Kayla ran and she ran fast ! It couldn’t be ? No way ? Her period just ended last week ? Not today !? At the pool?! In front of everyone ?! That’s it Life was over and it hadn’t even begun yet .

  As soon as she got home she told her mother everything and she tried everything to cheer Kayla up to go back to the pool . Nothing would work , so she called Amanda and Carla to come cheer Kayla up . Once they got there Tiny ran upstairs and to Kaylas bathing suit she left on her bathroom floor and began to lick it like it was the best dog treat ever . GROSS ! 

The girls screamed in disgust until Kayla picked up what she thought were period stained bottoms , only to find out it was a ketchup stain from the punctured ketchup packet she had in her bag . Turns out dads corkscrew wasn’t so lucky for Kayla . How will high school go ? Will she be period girl forever ?