preview

The Things I Carry: A Short Story

Decent Essays

The Things I Carry A Work of Fiction Blood rushed to my face. It was a terrible feeling. My knees went weak and my chest was heaving, but I couldn’t breath. I worked day and night for the six long years to just get a taste of success, a glimpse of my potential. But I couldn’t do it; I knew I would never have it in me. I walked down the final stretch of holes with the golf tournament practically in my hands. Cameras were focused, crowds cheered, rain dripped from my cap. The overcast brought back memories of my junior tournaments in Hong Kong. I hated those years. It seemed as if the rain made was my weakness. That day, I had millions of dollars on the line. More than that, I had all my loved ones on the line. I carried all they have sacrificed

Get Access