Riddle at the Pool's Edge
Maya's phone buzzed against the concrete bench, third time in five minutes. Instagram, then TikTok, then Snapchat notifications glowing across her iphone screen like tiny judgmental eyes.
"Coach is gonna kill if he catches you texting again," said Liam, floating on his back in lane three. "Again."
"It's Kelsey," Maya muttered, thumb hovering over the screen. "She's posting stories. Without me."
Swimming practice had become her escape from the group chat drama, but somehow it always followed her onto the pool deck. The water smelled like chlorine and bad decisions.
That's when she saw it — perched on the diving board like it owned the place. A sphinx moth, impossibly huge, its fuzzy body the color of storm clouds and wings painted with what looked like eyes.
"Whoa," Liam said, paddling closer. "That's a sphinx moth. They're supposed to be rare."
Maya had read about them in biology — named for the pose their caterpillars make, like the mythical sphinx. Riddle creatures. Guardians of secrets.
The moth's wings caught the afternoon light, creating an illusion of eyes watching her. Watching her obsess over notifications and follower counts and whether Kelsey's story caption was subtle shade.
"You know," Maya said, pocketing her phone, "sphinxes asked riddles. If you couldn't answer, they ate you."
"What's the riddle?" Liam asked, grinning.
Maya looked at her phone, then at the moth, then at the rippling water. "What thing costs nothing but everyone wants more of it? What thing can connect you to everyone but make you feel completely alone? What thing shows you everything but helps you see nothing?"
The moth lifted from the diving board, circling once before disappearing toward the locker room windows.
"Damn," Liam said. "That was deep."
Maya's iphone buzzed again in her pocket. She left it there.
"Race you to the other side," she said, diving in before he could respond.
The water swallowed the sound of her phone. She'd answer the riddle later. Maybe the answer wasn't on any screen after all.