The jetty

Underneath the jetty inky water sloshed vigorously against dank poles. Susan climbed down gingerly from the firm wooden walkway above. A mother walked by with her son in a blue pram, already engraving gender notions into his soft head. Susan’s left foot slipped a little on the algae scunge but her chipped fingernails had a firm grip on the wood. The grey sky loomed like a self-righteous parent, but she was here.

No sooner had she sunken her bottom into the wet wooden crossbeam, mere inches from the top of the soupy waves when a dolphin rose from the murk.