Twenty kilometers. His heart thumped in his ears. His muscles screamed for relief. He pushed through. Almost there. A bit more. One last hill.

Done.

All he needed to do now was get to his bike. Pedal home. Thankfully, mostly downhill.

He’d have a warm shower while the coffee brewed. Get some oatmeal going. Fry an egg. Make toast. His mouth watered.

A distant rumble sounded, and he looked up. The heavy bank of clouds that followed him, finally caught up.

Light flashed. Whoa! So close! A second wind propelled his legs as he sprinted, suddenly energized, to his bike.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: @ Dale Rogerson