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Y/N'S LEGS WERE NOT giving out. they were actually doing a pretty great job, their determination up at the highest point of the scale, their legs pedaling to glory, pace kept steady. you imagined yourself in a running race on a track in a stadium, resorting to checking your phone less and feeling as if everything around you faded away, surroundings becoming shrouded in black.
your feet continued at its pace, following through down roads and trails with your mother in mind. images of slightly saturated vhs film reels played through your head, displaying closeups of your mother's face with her arms up in pride and victory, wearing her track outfit.
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🚥 LATE 80s 🚥
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YOUR DAD—CURRENTLY IN HIS young twenties—sat in the audience excitedly, a brand new camcorder in his hand. the buzzer went off, every competitor taking off in a fast launch, using only their legs to pedal ahead one another. your dad turned the camera ever so slightly, keeping up with your mother's figure. "CMON HONEY! YOU CAN MAKE IT!" your dad screamed out, gripping at the camcorder with anticipation. before he knew it, your mom raced ahead and became the first body to cross the finish line, ripping the tape apart and attempting to slow her legs down.
