Flash Fiction – "The Final Battle"
He eyed his prey with a malevolent glare. The sun shined off his helmet; his uniform was stained with streaks. The stakes climbed as the opposing enemy stood near. It was all or nothing now. No going back. He had worked so hard in the past, and a loss wasn't acceptable.
He closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, and it seemed like time stood still…his eyes shot open at the shrill sound of a whistle.
The moment was here.
He swung his leg, and the football flew into the air.