Descriptive-Narrative Essay The day had come! I had won, crossing the sprayed white finish line on the scorching black rubber track. My high sense of excitement warred against the total fatigue of my body. Time suspended itself in a single frame, trapped in a perfect crystal. This day seemed mystical and felt like it could only be accomplished in the most vivid of dreams.
May 22, 2000 contained the greatest event of the entire track season, the Mid Miami League Championship. To even compete in this historic event proved that a track runner deserved to be remembered forever in the history books. I was a part of the proud few chosen to represent our school, the Miamisburg Vikings. I was ready to do battle for my school, like a devoted soldier ready to defend his country. Annihilation of all competition in the one hundred meter hurtles remained my only objective.
Randy smith
N. Randy Smith, Circuit Judge
Aerial view of Miamisburg, a city in southern Mont...The one hundred-meter hurtles stretched before my gaze. There were ten- black and white, perfectly spaced, their peeling structures showing their age over the years. They rested upon the burning hot serpent that displayed its distinctive white lines running parallel down its black skin. The competition seemed grim and desolate. I knew this race was mine until I saw the evil one destined to bring my doom.
His name, Randy Smith. Stone cold gray eyes and wild jet-black hair instantly put a fear in my body greater than that of the dark. His body, strong and lean, looked as if chiseled from a rare diamond of a supernatural realm. I watched as he paced back and forth with an unholy look of determination in his eyes. He turned to see me studying him and arrogantly walked over. With authority he said, "Hey Chris, you better be feeling good today,