The sound of a bathing bird — Haldenminner

Nothing was as dark as the water in Løkkevika when you stood there with sloshing water around your ankles and considered whether you dared. Two steps, or three, it was shallow — and then it went straight down and the depth pulled you in and you had to lean back so as not to end up like the little brother in that lake in Krokskogen. One moment he was playing at the water's edge with his clothes on. The next he went out and gasped in fright before…