I stand ready, waiting. Toe on the starting line. My heart is pounding, adrenalin courses through my body. I slide my glance sideways and quietly eye up my competition. Yes, that one. She is the one to beat. I breathe deeply to center myself. My body is coiled like a spring, ready to fly forward at the sound of the starting gun. Why is it taking so long, what are they waiting for? I feel the sweat starting to slide down my forehead towards my eye, but I am afraid to break my concentration. To risk even a millisecond's delay when the gun finally sounds. It feels like an eternity. So much hangs on this one race. Fortunes will be decided, reputations made or broken. The pressure is intense and still growing with every passing moment.
The shot rings out and the racers burst forth.
The potato sack race has begun.
The Sunday Scribblings prompt for this week was competition.