As Billy entered “The Zone”, absolute concentration was critical; the valley he planned to traverse operating his one-wheeled machine was treacherous. One false move, and its effects would be irreversible.
The machine would mask his vision as it traveled the gully. Billy planned to steer his utilizing a zigzag pattern, avoiding the ridges along the way. Should the wheel rip its way through the base of the canyon, Billy’s confidence would be blown to bits.
Billy’s reputation was one of fearlessness. Truth be told, he was just plain lucky.
Moments before Billy was to begin his quest for glory, he was inconveniently interrupted: a shrill screech broke his concentration. Billy was visibly shaken.
“Do you think you can remove that scratch from my hood, young man?”
Billy held back his back his frustration. He forced himself to respond, using an even-mannered tone.
“Yes, Mrs. Smith. I think everything is going to turn out just fine.”
Billy throttled the trigger of his rotary polisher, primed his buffing pad, and got to work.