Early afternoon. Benches are occupied with day-dreaming, reading the paper, hiding from the sun together under an umbrella, drifting into fitful sleep, whiling away the slow hours of motherhood.
Father and son, arms draped round each other'shoulders as they walk, radiate the purest affection. A beauty queen from earlier decades, in matching turban & bikini, & cat-eye sunglasses, puts up her legs on a plastic chair, scans the horizon, dips her face into a magazine. Everywhere bodies. Bodies veiled, or swathed in saris, or hidden in sensible skirts & stockings. Bodies uncovered, tanned & taut, or dimpling, slackening with age. Bodies in shorts & speedos, and the merest hint of fabric, and bodies wrapped in matronly costumes, ruched one-pieces sagging from the weight of water.
Come as you are.