I am bobbing on the surface of a small, but very deep indoor swimming pool, surrounded by children who are also bobbing like rubber ducks around me.  In the middle of the pool there is a rectangular hole, a deep shaft the size of a grave with perfectly straight sides made from the water itself.  Looking over it is like looking down a stairwell with solid blue walls at the bottom of which is a fat man wearing a white vest lying on the ground.  The swimming teacher is going to demonstrate the perfect dive through this hole to the bottom where his fall will be cushioned by the fat man’s belly.  Something strikes me as odd that the teacher would choose to dive into the man when there is all this water to dive into.  He dives but he is not quite straight enough and he grazes the water walls with his limbs.  The water has a jelly-like quality to it so that it bounces with the disturbance, creating huge swells at the surface that heave us up and down and make us feel queasy.  I can’t see through the hole any more so I don’t know what happens when he reaches the bottom.