Stock Car

Stock car # 98 slows down as my grandfather approaches the pit stop.
Tires smoking like a house on fire.
I can see the inpatient glare in my grandfather’s eyes
under his white helmet.
He is quickly losing the race, as
3, then 4, cars pass.
He revs his engine so loud that the whole crowd turns to stare,
And he takes off again faster than adrenalin rushing through your body,
To catch up to what he lost.
Suddenly, the whole crowd screams “Johnny, Johnny!”
He won the race.
I slowly walk over to the crowd of people surrounding him I make my way through the crowd
I walk up to him. With a look of pride on my face.
I hug him and smell the exhaust fumes lightly on his suit.
Wow, what a race!