It's over. Done. Finished.

The race cars have stopped.

The race is over.

The light has turned red.

That seemingly long road, suddenly much shorter.

The sun is setting.

Blood red rays reach out.

Casting sympathetic eyes on those who did not make it.

Their bodies litter the ground.

Twisted metal,

melted rubber.

The road has been long.

The road has been hard.

But the race is over.

Winners picked out.

Cars driven slowly into garages, dusted over, cleaned.

Drivers walking away,

quietly,

exhuausted.

The moon has risen, all is silent.

Dismissed.

It's over now. You can take your foot off the accelerator for now. Go and celebrate.

I will slump into a chair, and drift away...

It's done now.

The bell has rung.

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