The race

W They step up to the faintly marked line in the sand. As the referee pushes a long rush of air, a loud shriek ripples in all directions. simultaneously each racer crouches into a tight ball. For a second they remain silent, eager to begin the journey. Breaking the silence a roaring clap is heard and each participant leaps into action. Dodging themselves through the never ending forest, searching for the seven colours in the distance. Red is the first colour they see, it is blinding in the harsh sunlight, angry at the racers for disrupting its peace

M They step up to the hand drawn shaky line in the sand. As the referee pushes a long rush of air, a loud shriek ripples in all directions. In perfect coordination each racer crouches into a tight ball. For a second they wait silent, eager to begin the journey. Breaking the silence a roaring clap is heard and each participant leaps into action. Dodging there way through the never ending forest, searching for the seven colours in the distance. Red is the first colour they see, it is blinding in the harsh sunlight, angry at the racers for disrupting its peace. Soon it would be over. Obstacles fall in all directions like hail, crashing and falling onto the once peaceful ground.