When I was eleven or twelve, my father said he would pay me $50 if I could swim a mile. On the last lap, as my fingers grabbed for the edge of the pool right beside his dress shoes, he said, “I’ll give you another $1 if you swim another length.”
He met me at the other end of the pool.
And so it went.
I don’t remember which of us ran out of steam first.
I like to travel. I like to buy books. I like to buy purses.