My fellow Metrogoer would soon pass me, probably with a nice shove for good measure. I had a 20-step headstart, but I didn't want to get passed by any horseshoe wearer. I started walking faster at 80% of my usual stepping speed. But then I heard faster clickety-claks. Suddenly she sounded like a thoroughbred. Could she tell I was walking faster to stay in front of her? I wasn’t going to block her way if she caught up to me, but I could at least put up a good fight.
15 steps later she had moved within 10 steps of me. She was still closing the distance. I ramped up to my normal stepping speed that actually equaled her feverish sprinting and maintained a 6-step distance for the middle third of stairs. But the noise of her walking kept my heart racing. She was right behind me. I could almost smell her breath. She could make her move in the next five seconds and pass me before I had a chance to retaliate.
In one motion I looked over my shoulder, through her eyes, and into her soul. I could see her plans for a takeover at 30 steps to go - her loud shoes jackhammering all the way down, getting louder and louder as she neared the finish line. I saw people at the bottom laughing at me for losing a 20-step headstart to Miss Heavyfoot. Someone would probably throw an egg on my head and kids would point. The ridicule would be too much for6:30 in the morning.
I returned her gaze so she could see the fire within. This was not going to be her victorious day. No, it would be mine. I turned my head forward, grabbed the left rail, and I was off. My soles barely met the steps. Clickety-clak saw the growing distance and knew she had lost. With 20 steps to go I no longer heard her hooves.
15 steps later she had moved within 10 steps of me. She was still closing the distance. I ramped up to my normal stepping speed that actually equaled her feverish sprinting and maintained a 6-step distance for the middle third of stairs. But the noise of her walking kept my heart racing. She was right behind me. I could almost smell her breath. She could make her move in the next five seconds and pass me before I had a chance to retaliate.
In one motion I looked over my shoulder, through her eyes, and into her soul. I could see her plans for a takeover at 30 steps to go - her loud shoes jackhammering all the way down, getting louder and louder as she neared the finish line. I saw people at the bottom laughing at me for losing a 20-step headstart to Miss Heavyfoot. Someone would probably throw an egg on my head and kids would point. The ridicule would be too much for
I returned her gaze so she could see the fire within. This was not going to be her victorious day. No, it would be mine. I turned my head forward, grabbed the left rail, and I was off. My soles barely met the steps. Clickety-clak saw the growing distance and knew she had lost. With 20 steps to go I no longer heard her hooves.
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