Luck and Other Deadly Things. Christopher Byford

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      ‘How are you holding up there, Gramps?’

      ‘Watch the track rather than me. You still take those corners too fast. Always have.’

      Franco’s grandfather spasmed with coughs, his body lurching more violently as the noises became deeper. Eventually they halted as thick mucus was brought up and spat into a handkerchief.

      ‘You should be inside, resting …’ Franco sighed, checking the track ahead once again. The moonlight was helping matters, highlighting the long straight track that vanished into the night.