Rolling© By Bob Shallenberger

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Gravel hides on the winding asphalt as the curve looms innocent. Signs stream together, red and orange blur without warning. Rubber clenches, grasps, releases and repeats — eleven times. Tracks swirling behind, the striking metal skates in rhythm. Expert reflexes turn to anxious panic providing no relief or hope. End over end the rubber and steel bang. The tires touch …

The Merry-Go-Round© by Bob Shallenberger

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Sun-bleached dreads striped by homespun bands, tousled and muddled from the resilient north plains wind. Long beards tattered, peppered white and gray. Tattooed skin, red from the Dakota sun. Bifocals plastic, thick and brown. Tee shirts faded mauve and sage. Shoes pale, old and tattered. Sweatpants frayed from countless miles and myriad hours training, circling the oblong track. Radios pinned …