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CARS Third gear: my heart pounding, the rain chanting on my windscreen "faster, faster." Fourth gear and I can feel the engine burst out with excitement. It is time. Fifth gear: the G-force rises and the sweat is pouring into my ear like a racing river. My eyes are drawn to the dashboard, glaring at the shining red button, guarded by a sheet of see-through plastic. My hand, shaking like a rattlesnake, floats through the air reaching closer and closer now touching the button. I push my hand! The speed rises dramatically. The finish line is within my sight, I can feel the finish line and there is a buzz in my ear of the crowds roar at the finish line. Never have I felt this kind of glory; never have I felt so warm or happy. The last turn approaches and I am confident I can do it. I take a sharp pull on the steering wheel and my car spirals out of control inches away from the finish line. It erupts in blistering flames and I can hear the crowd cry, "It's going to blow!" ...read more.


Dad never told me the story of what happened to Mr Dylan, all he used to say was, "It was a wet night," or, "It was an accident." He was a fantastic manager and he taught me how winning was all about tactics and being able to think like a racer. The biggest lesson that Mr Dylan taught me was to use my environment and make the most out of every situation. In other words if the track is wet go sharp and slide, or if it's dry go slow around corners and build up the speed steadily. When I was sixteen, a tragic event occurred. Birds singing: sun shining, fluffy clouds high up in the sky. It was ten in the morning and it was a beautiful day so my dad and me were going for our usual daily lap of the track. It started like any other day; I got in the car feeling a huge dose of excitement. I turned the engine on: twenty miles per hour then forty then eighty, one hundred and twenty miles per hours. ...read more.


This whipping in the eyes of God was pounding every inch of my body, every inch of the ground. To this day I don't know why I did this, but I started running, running like a raging bull. Running as fast as my feet would carry me in any direction, the downpour of rain couldn't stop me, nothing could stop me. My legs were burning in agony, but I was still running, running to places I had never seen before, running through bushes and fields with razor-sharp grass. I fell to the ground, not because I wanted to, but my legs could not physically carry on. I was lying on the ground being pounded by the rain and I screamed: louder than the thunderbolts, louder than a screaming child and the rain suddenly stopped, as fast as it began. Now lying in this heap of metal about to die, I think to myself what my dad thought to himself all those years ago, is it so bad to die doing what you love? I loosen my clench on the steering wheel and I take my last breath. The last bit of warmth escapes my body and I can feel what my dad felt all those years ago, the feeling of satisfaction. Ajet Durici 1 ...read more.

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