• The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (cont.)

    “Walter!” A shrieking voice pierced through the sound of ringing bullets. Walter Mitty sighed to himself softly, as the shape and form of his wife seemed to materialize in front of him. “What am I going to do with you? Come on we are going home.” She said briskly, walking away, her pace following suit. Walter followed closely behind her sullenly, his feet dragging across the ground slightly. He sat in the car soon after, remembering to slip the seat belt over him. “Gloves, and remember not to go to fast.” Walter groaned inwardly, but he slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his gloves, slipping them on quickly. With a start of the car they were off, down a winding highway, alone except for the car that was a ways in front of them. Through it all his wife was gabbing at him about the price of good hair gel, but all Walter could focus on was the receding headlights of the car in front of him.
    …”Walter! Come in!” A crackling voice scolded from somewhere close to Walter’s ear. A smug smile crossed his face as he gripped the wheel tighter, his black leather gloves creating friction with the wheel. “I can’t do that sir.” Walter said with mock respect. “If I take a pit now, then number 58 is going to pull away from me. I won’t have this chance again.” With that Walter kicked his gear and began to pull to the right side of the pack. They were rounding a turn, but it was shorter from the right, though no one had ever done it before. Sheer determination rippled from Walter’s stoic form. He steeled his muscles over and turned the wheel quickly, feeling the car shift underneath him. He shifted down and swung his back wheels around the long turn, barely scraping by. His powerful V18 engine rocked the car violently as it pushed to get up to speed. He narrowed his eyes with sheer stress as he gazed upon the red number 58 car quickly filling up his windshield….