death race

I took part in a death race around a massive park, driving a slick, slammed monster truck-esque offroad vehicle. I wobbed and weaved around the competition. Barely keeping up the whole while, but never falling hopelessly behind. It was like we were driving on a mountain trail. A huge rim of these trails surrounded some sort of resort in a crater below. I saw we were nearing the end and pressed my luck. I began cutting cliffs across switchbacks instead of driving them, cutting the lead of those who were driving more conventional cars, drifting around the turns. At the very end I finally cut ahead of the leader, reaching the victory circle just before him.

After I got out of the car and got my accolades, I noticed a spliter of glass in my index finger. I tried pulling it out with my nails, but it only slipped further in and got further broken apart, getting in my other hand as well. After a few more attempts I asked someone for tweezers. My rival, still a bit annoyed, handed me some to try and help. I immeadiately began plucking the glass out of my hands. They didnt bleed, but several pieces were much larger than I had expected, reaching deep within my fingers.