The Horizon Dash

Joe looked into the telescope to see across the plain of low yellow grass to the horizon where Feet Speedman was a wavering brown dot on the brink of going away. Joe had a sweat-smeared plastic stopwatch in his hand and he turned it up to his eye. “Three hours fifteen seconds,” he said to himself. “Faster, Feet!”

A clipboard rested next to his boots, and there was a paper there that had some numbers scribbled down in a slouching column. The smallest number on top, circled in blue ink: “3:21.34.”

Inside the telescope Feet rippled in and out of the heat rolling over the distant grass.

Joe screwed his eye in the viewfinder. Official games were in a week. Would Speedman even qualify?

Then Feet disappeared at 3:20:56 and Joe clicked the stopwatch in disbelief. The Horizon Dash was theirs to lose.

________________

For more practicallyserious flash fiction, check out this story!

And for other flash ficiton options, check out Susie!