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We Race
We race. My brother and his board and my board and I. Drifting and speeding through a dead street, I follow close behind. My brother is a different type of athlete than me. I race and win as he still rides like an amatuer. He runs like a bullet, taking him first place in track or cross country. He uses his legs to kick and push his board faster, faster, faster. I use my balance leaning side to side, kneeling on the board, passing him up through turns. racing through the downhill road in thick woods, the smell of fresh pine and pollin filling the air. My brothers dense curly hair, pushed back by the force of wind. Riding like an amateur, He takes his caution. I don't. I fear nothing with my board as he fears wiping out. I am a squirrel, dodging cars in a speedy manner. My brother is a deer, staying to the edge of the road. We race. I win with the balance and weight and he finishes moments after me with his strong legs and momentum.

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