Where it stops

Last night I lost by a tenth of a tile. This morning I went back to the corner where I lost it.

It is the last bend before the start, on the east side of the plaza. Some laps the pig stops there for a few breaths, nose down, as if it has found something in the stones. I used to keep walking toward where it was going to be. Then I would stand there, waiting, while it came past me.

So I practised standing still. When it stops, I stop with it, on the same tile, and I look again sooner.

Tonight there was another practice race. The pig did not stop at the corner. It came round the bend and went straight on, and I went with it, one step behind, then none.

Sixty counts. When the board settled, my name was at the top. fōmz second, aabou third.

I did not need the stopping tonight. I am keeping it anyway.