From the village to the hill.

Here I am. Standing in the middle of the empty road. A straight line, of about two kilometers long, from the end of the village to the start of the hill and its sharp turns. The scorching heat blurring my vision on the ground level. The smell of the asphalt mix with the freshness of the bordering fields. The silence, implacable, takes suddenly so much room. The wind only, from time to time, makes the trees dancing in a slight ballet and disturb this void.
I close my eyes. Letting myself float with the background I fell into a dark and infinite place. Losing track of reality, as I wake up, in another world, slowly, the silence leaves room to a roaring noise. It seems far away first, as a herd preparing to charge. But it’s becoming louder and louder. Almost painful, as I am now part of the pack. The smell changes too and the natural environment is taken away. It’s soon hard to breathe, like I was drowning and I needed to focus to keep the air coming to my lungs. The trees stopped their dance, immobile they ‘re now waiting. Everybody is now waiting. The atmosphere is tense. The moment is crucial. Those two kilometers is nothing. But those two kilometers will make all the difference. A straight line, from the village to the hill. I can see it, the deadly first turn. So far, so close, in a blink of an eye, it’s one or the other. All my body is shaking, from impatience and fear. A sweatdrop is slowly crawling on my cheek, I can feel it but I do not want it to disturb me. In seconds anything can happen. In a second everything will happen. I tend to keep my look far away, fixed on the horizon. The sun is behind, the weather is dry, and the wind is calm, the conditions are perfect. It is now all about the engine. I am skilless. Despite the barely breathable air, I inspire and expire three times slowly. Focusing on the sound and the vibrations of the car, I try to connect with the mechanics. And the more I feel the motor force the more I feel powerless. I am so small on this seat. A quick look on my left makes me think that my opponents feel the same. The looks must be serious, the minds sharpen and the feets sensible. The starter load a blank shot in his gun, raise his arm in the air as the crowd makes silence. Every pilot is looking straight ahead, the blast will give the start. The blast will sound the end of the interminable and deadly wait…

The shot is fired.
The cars soar on the road. Everything just went so fast. Vibrations in the cabin is now insupportable. The speed is putting a non-natural pressure on my chest. My hands struggle to grasp the wheel. But I need to keep going. Because everybody is willing to risk everything to be the top to negotiate the first steep turn. If you do so, chances you win are good because the road is tight when starting the turns. So everything is at stake now, on the straight line, from the village to the hill.