Arthur woke earlier than usual, the faint light of dawn slipping past the curtains. For a moment he lay still, listening to the quiet hum of the house. Then the memory of what he had done pulled him from bed. He dressed quickly, made tea he barely touched, and stepped out onto the patio.
The pool met him with a harsh new smell. Even in the cool morning air, the tang of chlorine and bleach clung to his throat, sharp enough to sting his nose. The water itself looked strange, as if it no longer belonged to his backyard—opaque, unsettled, faint bubbles clinging to the surface where the pump still churned.