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Sport 36: Winter 2008

72. clean the next night

page 178

72. clean the next night

Pupu Springs, the sign said. Crank crank crank.
The carpark bare. He shat twice in the shed,
then tiptoed through the bushes. Water slid
all round him, silent, massive, swift, like liquid
motorways. He reached the spring. A sign said,
wahi tapu. In he slipped. He sank.
He struggled, water-knotted. Blub. He saw
bright sandflies, moons and green weeds. Silver sand
danced and glittered on the bottom. Something
held him, bore him, washed him in the swing
of pureclear water, freshed him, grabbed his hand
and pulled him out, and dumped him on the shore.

Flop. He gurgled. Gasped. And giggled. Soon
he fell asleep, dried softly by the moon.