Micro-explosions filled the engine while pushing exhausts through the pipes. My face squashed and my hands were in the death grip position. The Mini drifting, splashing dirt in every direction. Clutch in, gas out, pull up a gear, gas in, repeat. I had no idea where I was on the track list. I was racing to finish the race. Finish it, I thought to myself, turn that wheel, don’t hit the bushes, break, turn. My Mini ran like an orchestra, everything knew its parts, and I was just flinging my arms around. I forgot to breathe. I breathe, I breathe awkwardly. Awkward breathing disrupts my driving. Clutch in, breathe in a break, shift gear, gas in, repeat. Wait for no, breath out, damn it.
With only a few laps to go, I’m close to finishing up this race. This is it, time for me to stop zoning out, and do some serious catch-up. It’s not enough being faster. I need to dance, sway right and left, slow down and play the groove in the pocket. The first couple laps are the hardest for me, sitting there and going through the motions just to complete X amount of laps. But I kept count. I remembered my coach’s breathing techniques, I started acting like a human. I’m the conductor of this car, and I’m heading into the finale of the symphony. Damn, I’m slick. I past people; one, two, four, six, all right behind me now. Oh, hot damn, am I in first, I don’t know but what matters is that I’m racing now. One last lap to go.
Drawing closer to the line, I began breathing awkwardly again. Shoot, all my slickness was wearing off, but I pushed, I knew the end was near. I see it. The checkered flag, and that line, and there I passed it. I followed a bit behind. Oh lordy.
I did it, I finally finished. Oh my goodness, what a race it was. The crashes, the overtakes, and the passes that happened, I was able to say I was part of a grand experience.
Slowing the car down, I started thinking about what sort of damage took, and if I’ll have enough repair it. I have a few sponsors, but I believe that it’s become a nuance always repairing it. This Mini is doing what it’s built for. Racing. On occasion, I’ll push cars and beat around to catch ahead. It was fun, it was all good fun. Until someone flipped, and then it was exhilarating. Death becomes apparent, and everyone holds their breath awake in anticipation. Then, when the driver comes out alive, the crowd applauds, as the driver laughs and asks how bad the damage was their car.
As I got out of my car, a man from a distance came walking up to me. He looked eager to tell me something. “Hello Charles Cohen, my name is Count Octavio. I run LiteFrame. We do tests on future vehicles. I saw you ride out. You were fantastic!” This man. Oh Lordy, this man looked and sounded like he was European. He must be substantial! “Hi. Oh, thank you, Mr. uh.” “Octavio, please” Ah, this extraordinary man wants to be my friend. He offers his hand, and I felt like it was an honor to shake it. Not shake, but hold it and confirm our friendship. “Mr. Octavio, thank you, I appreciate your kind words.” We made direct eye contact. He then got down to business. “Cohan, we want you to be one of our test drivers. Your sponsors speak quite fondly of you. We also wanted someone lesser known to be able to use them full time.” I didn’t think he meant as an insult but is the truth, I ain’t too famous. “I accept your offer, Mr. Octavio, thank you for the consideration” He smiled back “No, thank you, Cohan. Lord’s blessing upon you son, we’ll be in contact.”
I wanted to go home and nap for a bit, but I thought about saying congratulations to my friend racers. But my mind was running off to better places. I was finally considered for something important.
Part of a racing team in South Carolina, I won a few national races and competed in a fair amount of drifting races.
I was known for my drifting in the racing community, but far most, I knew for my odd tactics. I didn’t drive to win, I drove because it was the only place where I could be creative. I tried to be creative in math and physics from college, but I hated figuring out word problems. I didn’t bother with the arts because I loved racing too much to try anything else.
I just wanted to put all of the theories to the test. I didn’t think about the physics of each turn. I thought about checking every possible I had. That meant practicing on open tracks for hours upon hours. I coached other drivers and helped them win races we solid advice. However, the drivers I contributed to managed to pull off my ideas better than I could.
It started after a crash that could have happened. I was 15 and excited to be driving with my permit. Once, While I was driving my mom and dad to my school’s football playoff, there was a dense amount of traffic heading to the school. However, it didn’t stop and go traffic, It was intervals of spaced traffic. With came and ease, I maneuvered through the traffic by passing people gracefully, through the tightest space. I knew what my parent’s car could do. It had fast acceleration with decent turning. I knew I was on the delicate side of things when I had cars honk, and my parents were definitely scared. But, they were impressed. I had successfully danced my way through traffic until a car into of us halted abruptly. I didn’t slam my brakes, I pulled the emergency brake, turned my wheel, and slide sideways. Crisis averted. The car in front of stopped, because it was a red light. So yeah, I still had a few things to learn.