An ex-addict, her estranged son and their social worker go swimming.

(from Vanilla Bright Like Eminem)

She wished the social worker could die somehow and take the knowledge of Gail’s humiliation with him; he deserved to die anyway, the parasite. But the social worker remained alive and at the wheel, noting Gail’s comeuppance in his little black book of a brain, and then — Jesus Christ! — Ant went and did it again when they were almost there, by asking Gail, “What was that little drink you had back there?”

It’s sort of a simple situation but so visual and moving. I found myself rooting for this mother, and wondering how someone who seems so caring and smart and selfless could have become a heroin addict in the first place. But, you know, it happens. Cool, cool. story. I feel like I’ve come across a ton of stories about swimming recently.