Racing On The Beach (Almost Finished)

I placed my feet along the imaginary starting line,

My brother did the same.

I could taste the excitement, a bitter metallic flavor.

“It tastes like tonic water”, I thought.

My muscles tensed, they felt like liquid compacting into solid. My skin moistened with a thick layer of sweat. The anxiety from waiting was to blame.

“1.” My dad called.

My heart raced.

“2.” He spoke again.

My breathing augmented.

“3.”

He was about to say it.

“Go!”

I took off, sprinting at a rate that I had never achieved before.

Looking at my surroundings, I noticed that everything began to slow down.

The rough sand beneath my feet had the same effect on skin as paper that was named after it.

The razor sharp shells added to the already excruciating pain.

But it takes a lot more than a little pain to prevent me from beating my older sibling in a competition such as this.

The oxygen-rich air engulfed my face in a cloud of fresh, moist gases as I continued to the finish line.

Running as fast as I could, I noticed my brother a few paces behind me. He looked back at me with a face of great disgust and then continued on with the race. It wasn’t that long I could clearly see the finish line, a long narrow line carved out in the beach. And at that moment, we both knew who was going to win.

I just had to brag, I rarely got the opportunity and I wasn’t going to waste this one.

“HAHA, I won and you lost. I’m the winner and you’re the loser. HAHA, in your face!

My brother hates losing, and even more, he hates being made fun of.