Magic Minute Race of Survival
MAGIC MINUTE // The ominous clatter of a German half-track echoed through the trees.
“They’re right behind me!” Thought seventeen-year-old Lino, hurtling around a bend on his racing bike in the Piedmont foothills.
“Better bury myself and my bike in the scrub!” He thought heading for the undergrowth aware that the penalty for liaising with the Partisans was to be shot on sight.
Tenuously concealed a few meters from his merciless pursuers, Lino recalls an icy chill going through him as they thundered past barking out their guttural commands.
An eternity later he quietly snuck into his mountain village and crawled into the relative safety of his own bed.
Amazing the stories you hear when you get others do the talking instead of worrying about what you’re going to say next.
I’m Laurie Smale… Till my next Magic Minute 🪄
