Drive Or Die

Freddy Marshall was standing near an old race car, presented to him by his father in early childhood. The man straightened his coat, which looked today at sunset, especially suited to the atmosphere, and threw his head back heavily. The pink clouds seemed to be too heavy and, to some extent, gloomy. A flock of black crows flew high in the sky, prophesying the end of the world. What brought the hero here to this tournament, where only desperate souls come? Maybe a health problem, or a divorce, or, probably, a warning about the death of a father who crashed during the next race? In the end, it was Dad who instilled in Freddy this passion for adrenaline. What is left to do now? You can continue to live, stretching the boredom, stretching like molasses. On the other hand, maybe the father was right when he said: "All or nothing." Marshall got into the car and buckled up. The smell of the new interior was a welcome drug for the hero.

“Drive or die,” flashed through the man’s thoughts, and the sound of a running engine ruined Freddie’s doubts.