She swam out a little ways, enjoying the water sluicing against her neck, over her shoulders. From the beach it was pretty to look at, but to swim in it was more poetic an experience than she was typically given to enjoying. She turned back to him, taking the stance, the rigidity, his expression, and then swam over until she could touch the sand again with her toes. She walked slowly through the water to him.

"It was an empirical observation, but not an objective one." She twisted her hair into a rope and let it drape along her shoulder.

"How are you doing?"