One Last Hold
“The cars whizzed by on the track, muffled by her earplugs but reverberating low in her stomach. Whiffs of concession food blubber, mustard, and vinegar mingled with grease from the track, making her queasy. Even if she had been hungry, the thought of seeing Wesley after the race left her too anxious.
She returned to her seat and watched Wesley’s car. When he was in the pit stop, she zoomed in her camera’s lens and snapped pictures. When the white flag was raised, she stood along with the rest of the crowd, her bag with notebook forgotten.
After talking to racing aficionados and taking notes, she had a great idea for her next article from a fan’s perspective. She’d write a piece on the excitement in the air, the buoyancy from hoping the fan favorite won, the choking stench of burning rubber, the importance of at least cotton balls in the ears, and the people who braved the wind, cold, traffic and crowds.
The yells of the fans intensified during the last lap.
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