Short Story About a Race

Short Story About a Race

It was a dazzling, sun-drenched, exuberant day, a day like no other. I woke up for the loud noise from the nearby carnival. The sun rays were pouring down the room. Swallowing my breakfast with a gulp, I got ready and ran off to the carnival. The annual carnival was a day of mirth, enjoyed by everyone. Children had rides, bumper cars, haunted houses and the big wheel, whereas adults had aiming games and other activities. The air was crispy agile and smelt of cotton candy. The entire day was crowed. The biggest attention though was the annual car race held at the festival.

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The race was international, as racers from all over the world took part. The winner wins a massive gold cup, and a large sum of money. I, being a journalist have to capture the race even the minute details. It was an exciting occupation yet a definitely arduous one. I along with my cameraman went along to watch the race which was about to begin. All the formulae one cars lined up in the race tracks. The drivers held tightly onto the driving wheel, they looked tensed and eager to race. Suddenly everyone was tensed and caught in a rough silence.

Then with the waving of the black and white chequered flag, and a gun shot that waved across the crowd, the race commenced. There were about a 25 participants. Being a journalist, obliviously I felt biased. The crowd was cheering, with all their valour. My cameraman was amidst a battle in getting the best pictures. People were hooting, whistling, their whole attention was focused. The horses were being whipped hastily by their riders. The whip sank into the skins of the horses. The riders had their backs hunched, held onto the ropes of the horses’ masks and focused ahead. Five horses had already finished the 1st lap out of the 5 laps.

They had to take the curves steadily and carefully. I looked over to find Steve but he wasn’t anywhere near, I made a note to call him at the end of the race. I wondered how much people must have betted on these horses. The number 16 horse was at present leading the race; it was just one more lap… just one more. Gritting my teeth, my thoughts raced madly when I wanted the number 16 horse to win. I was at a trance, as I was caught in the excitement and tension the people felt. I lost track of my job. Then… all of a sudden… so quickly, that horse slid across the track, followed by a cloud of dust.

It sled across and fell onto the side. Everyone was drenched in fear. The crowd bellowed a grasping noise. I myself at a trance, was at a shock. The race continued though, number 10 won. I had no intention of the winner. I looked over to find Steve, and a smile came across my face as I saw him near the injured horse, with the camera on his hands. It was carried over to a first aid. Catching up with Steve, he told the horse was doing fine. My mind was at ease. Today was definitely a tedious day. Carrying my bag, my thoughts went back to the race, on how to write the article for tomorrow’s newspaper.


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