My friends and I are in an on-again/off-again writing club where the rules are simple. Every two weeks you have to submit three short stories that it took you 20 minutes or less to write. These are the results.

 

This is My Tour de France

 

I’ve been training both my liver and my body for over a year for just such a situation as this. I’m basically smashed, having been drinking at the concert all night. I’m worn out from jumping around in the mosh pit for an hour, but I got the call at five minutes to one am. You’re working at the bar tonight, and if I can make it before last call, you’ll give me a free drink.

 

I race up to get my bicycle, get geared up, and take a quick swig of rum for the ride. It’s normally a 45 minute ride, and I’ve got 30 minutes to get there. Go!

 

The first hill is the hardest. I’m swerving from the drinking, and my legs are already burning, but I know if I can’t push myself to my limit this early on, I’ll never make it. Cleared the crest, and now flying down, pedaling despite my already breakneck speed while being surrounded by other potentially drunk drivers.

 

Those bums distracted me for a second. Damn it! Got to focus. Make it through the park without letting up at all. FUCK! Why am I going through the park at all? I’m not going home.

 

Okay, stay calm. Keep riding while you think. What’s the best way to get back to the other side of the park. 32nd Avenue is where you need to ride to. It’s cold and I’m sweating harder than I have in a long time. Snot is running from my nose and meeting the occasional drool coming out of my mouth from panting. This is no time to stop.

 

Cut down 32nd. One more major hill to go. It’s a killer. I think I could walk up this hill faster than this, but that’s assuming I could actually walk at all. My legs are completely on autopilot. Shit, there it is. I can see the sign. There you are, outside having a smoke.

 

“Fucking what time is it?” I yell from half a block away.

 

“1:27. Get in here!” You yell back as you walk into the bar.

 

No one but me can ever understand the glory in this victory.