Thanks again to all those over at Word Bohemia…
“No, no! Listen to me!”
He raised the visor of his helmet and wiped his sweating face. How could he make them listen? He raised his hand and waved it desperately, trying to flag the other riders’ attention.
“You can’t go back that way! You have to listen!”
But nobody slowed. Their minds on the finish line, they merely whizzed past, the roar of the engine making the oranges on the fruit stall hop.
The stall holder, placing a steadying hand on his wares, regarded the rider with a sneer.
“I thought you’d be trying to win instead of making a nuisance of yourself here.”
The rider took off his helmet, and switched off his bike.
“You don’t understand,” he replied, a slight waver in his voice. “There’s something bad up there. Something that’s trying to eat us!”