time to go

I was in the neighbourhood of my teenage years, trying to go somewhere. A huge swimming pool covered at least a block of the usually quiet street. It was dug out of the ground and was so deep that it was likely it was linked to the ocean. I was in the pool, swimming to the edge as fast as I possibly could, so as to climb up the ladder and out of the pool. A great sense of urgency rose within me, though I was not sure why. Once I was out of the water, I was able to replay the scene from a different viewpoint: as though I had an underwater camera trained on my body. I saw that I had been terrifyingly close to danger; that a big black book was swimming behind me, hunting me under the water, and honing in on me ready to attack just as I made it out of the pool.
Next, there was a huge group of people on the street. They seemed to be divided into two or more teams, playing a kind of game. I could sense danger. The people were volatile, egging each other on. I wanted to escape the people, feeling that the street game might erupt into a violent and aggressive fight.
Next, I found my car and knew it was time to move as the meter had run out. I started the engine and moved the car a short distance down the road, parking in a shady spot under a tree. I emptied all of the change from my wallet onto a table, searching for $2 coins to feed the meter. I found a couple, paid and turned back to my pile of change. A relative was there, sifting through the coins. I shooed him away, gathering up my money, hoping that he hadn't taken any.