They all began behind the same line.
He knew that.
But.
They didn’t begin at the same time.
For them the gunshot was earlier.
Now.
It came too late for him.
Or so he thought.
Every race.
The gunshot wouldn’t come to him until it was too late.
Too Late.
But was it?
No.
He didn’t know.
Everyone’s came at different times.
Now he knows.
Not only this, but something else too.
Even if it only came too late for him, it was okay.
Too late was his now.