The wind was stronger than Clay expected this morning, so he eased out a photo of his son and kissed it. He gazed at his rowing partners knowing that all had to band together to reclaim the Kingbury Rowing Medal.
The men took their positions, and the race was on. Everyone stroked in unison as the sound of their breathing became one. Their three competitors were edging them out.
"Now!" Clay shouted.
The team began chanting his dead son's name and inched out the competitors to win. Clay dedicated the win to his son who died during last year's race.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.07 seconds at 4:02pm on Nov 10, 2024 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
