**Mild language in the fragment. Just warning you.**
The track was muddier than it looked. Both competitors
were set. Rudy through a rock in the air as the starting pistol. When it
hit the ground, they could start running.
"I can't even see the finish line," Liesel complained.
"And I can?"
The rock wedged itself into the earth.
They ran next to each other, elbowing and trying to get in front. The slippery ground slurped at their feet and brought them down perhaps twenty meters from the end.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" yelped Rudy. "I'm covered in shit!"
"It's not shit," Liesel corrected him, "it's mud," although she had her doubts. They'd slid another five meters toward the finish. "Do we call it a draw, then?"
Rudy looked over, all sharp teeth and gangly blue eyes. Half of his face was painted with mud. "If it's a draw, do I still get my kiss?"
"Not in a million years." Liesel stood up and flicked some mud off her jacket.
So there you have it, my TT! :)