It’s early June, just after daylight on a smooth as glass lake in upstate New York. Stepping out on the porch of my rental cabin, I hear a commotion down at the pier. “Ahhhh!” a man’s voice bounces off the crystal-clear water.
I stand up to see him climbing out of the sixty-degree lake. He walks by me on the way to his cabin, wrapped up in a beach towel, flip-flops squishing with every step. “I won’t need coffee now!” he shouts, grinning from ear to ear. I smile back and take a sip from my steaming cup of Joe.
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Flash Fiction by David 
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