Gave it all up when I was fourteen.
Nobody could understand why.
I simply reacted like any teenager. Scowled a lot. Said it was boring and I’d better things to do with my life.
I never mentioned Neil.
The ever-popular, charismatic Mr Neil Samuels. The charming ex-professional who used to keep me behind at the end of sessions for extra tuition. The same dependable man who made me promise not to tell anyone about our little secret.
They said I was good. Olympic standard at least.
Nowadays I can’t go near a swimming pool without being violently sick.
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
A 100-word story for the prompt at Friday Fictioneers.