Splush, Splash, Splush! The contestants’ sprint pass with crimson fences, huffing and puffing as they go. Athletes vault over hurdles getting back on their feet and continuing. Auburn trees dances in the wind. Parents crossing their arms to maintain body heat. Like blotches on a shirt, Sludge stains the competitors lively trainers. Casually, clouds gather in seeming like it’s about to rain Roaring parents vices are barely heard in the harsh gales. Many parents eagerly look for their kids. Even though it’s windy out, many crowd-goers are in just shorts and a t-shirt. DUll and green, the public toilets are in use. A few people waiting outside for their turn The depressing roof does nothing more then it’s worth. Jail cells are what the windows are. Now even more runners are coming in, The weather-beaten plank of wood still stands strong. Moss grows on one side of the hurdle. The contestants eagerly waiting for this day to end. So is horde lingering until the race ends. I wouldn’t like to be in their shoes on this miserable afternoon.
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