He sat on the verge considering the doughnut-shaped
orbitals scorched onto the asphalt. Some of the others
who came out to this often overcast industrial estate in
the heart of the country were pulling wheelies, stoppies,
practising various pillion stunts. Somewhere just off to
the left of his field of vision he heard a crunch.

Mally was heading back from the burger van with poly-
styrene cartons and cups of instant coffee but he paused
a moment to watch the rider flick the machine back up
on the throttle, looking for trick welds or some other
support belying the showcraft, before heading up the
mown banking and enquiring what the demeanour was
about.

There was quite a lot on his mind, all said. Not only
was the original GATSO precedent still being upheld,
which meant there was every chance his license was
a privilege somewhere the other side of Camberwell,
his telephone log clearly showed he'd been in France
for at least two of the alleged offences and with the new
EU staging proposals in force he'd not had entitlement
to even be on the bike through those.

FCS

COPYRIGHT (C) 2006 F CAMERON SIPSTON
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