Across the finish line they went and victory was theirs, and perhaps it was one that was relieving. Crowds cheered and people came running up to the victor, looking to grab them the moment they stepped out of their vehicle to rise them above their shoulders and carry them to wherever the victory was to be celebrated. Those who were looking to try and stop the crowd from running onto the track were unable to stop the deluge and so it was that, before the victor had time to process what had happened, they were swept away.
Upon a podium they were placed and handed the trophies they were, and their competitor was nowhere to be seen. The competitor hadn’t encountered any fatal accidents of any sort. Nor had they showed any real sign of struggle. However, they were nowhere to be seen. There were no traces of their vehicle and there was nothing to suggest that they were ever there. However, it also seemed unlikely that they were forced off the track.
The celebrating went on for a while and whilst the victor was there, they were trying to not be present. They were trying to work out as to what happened and why. They felt their victory was not earned. The challenge had dissipated and they wanted to get away from all of the celebrating. sure, it was a major victory, but it was hollow. They wanted time to think but, try as they might, they were forcibly pulled away from their thoughts by those around them and their desire to celebrate a momentous occasion as it were.
It didn’t feel momentous for them, but it certainly did for others.
The partying went on and people kept on celebrating, though eventually there was need for all to go their separate ways and go their separate ways they did. The victor needed to sleep and they needed rest. They thankfully had the following few days away from needing to do anything and so rest was an opportunity provided to them. However, as they tried to sleep, all their thoughts turned toward the event. They turned toward the race and how they were denied an honest, true and just victory.
They felt like no victor. They felt as though they were handed what they wanted without any resistance. They didn’t feel like the won, and the person who gave them the win was not around. The victor didn’t’ need to take the win, but they felt obligated to do so, somehow. They felt that maybe things would turn around, even though without saying a thing, it was assured that there was going to be no change. The other racer actively stepped out of the race and they were going to remain out of it.
The following day came, soft, quiet, though perhaps a little busy with all the noise that comes with said business at the same time. It was, at the end of it all, just another day.
Above it all in a hotel room overlooking the city the victor was there, finally asleep and yet restless. They could get up when they wanted, but it was almost as though they were compelled to rise earlier than desired, and rise they did.
They sat in the bed for a while, trying to work things out and reconcile what they felt was not really a victory with all of the celebrating. They wanted to know why the other racer gave up, but they felt that perhaps there was a chance that they could put it out of their head somehow. Perhaps they could reconcile what had happened with the celebrating and see some sort of net positive to the whole thing. And they could, but still, they needed to go for a walk, see if they could clear their head and think more about what happened.
They got ready and then headed off. They left the hotel and walked in a direction for a while. It was busy; there were plenty of people around, and yet the path forward seemed clear. They kept on walking, only turning if necessary, though this offered no reprieve. Eventually they turned around and headed on back to the hotel.
A few days passed and, whilst active, The Victor remained thinking about what happened. They were perturbed that there were no answers they could think of and they felt slighted by their easy victory. They wanted to know what had happened and why. They wanted to know why the other racer stopped. They thought they knew, or at least had an understanding, but they did not. They wanted to work out as to why they still went ahead to win a race they no longer had a stake in winning, for without the challenge there was no victory for them.
They thought long and hard about what they were going to do, and if there was any way they could rectify this issue, but nothing came to mind. It was almost as though they were lost, though really they weren’t. Anyway, sans the challenging race, they got what they wanted. They won and they were lauded and celebrated for it, but perhaps they didn’t care about that at all.
They didn’t know if they did or did not care about it. They just knew that the thoughts remained invasive and consuming, and they felt powerless to them. The longer this went on, the greater their sense of dissatisfaction seemed like it took hold.
On one fine day of being in the hotel, nearing the end of their stay, they decided that it was time to take action. They felt they could no longer bear the thoughts without trying to seek out an answer of sorts and so they gathered what they felt were necessary belongings.
They wrote out a letter and left it on a bedside table. Then, feeling content with everything ready for themselves, they left the room, headed downstairs and left the hotel.
The time it took to write one thousand words: 18:33:77
This was a struggle to write. It seemed to take a really long time and I felt I had to stretch things out.
Written at home.