She knew that it hurt to elbow a person in the nose, but even so, the urge to damage him was unusually persistent. Instead, she zipped her racing overalls up to her neck - heat exhaustion, on this rare hot English summer day, was preferable to Mike indulging in his favourite work-hours pastime of peering down her top.
Snatching her clipboard from her desk, she left the small administration office of Thruxton Motorsport Centre with enough force to make the windows rattle in their cheap aluminium frames. Outside, the smell of baked tarmac and hot oil hung heavily in the warm still air, soothing like aromatherapy – if you bought into that girly-rubbish, which Alex didn’t.
She glanced at the clipboard and undid her overalls a couple of inches. Mr. Robert Dryden was the next driver eager to conquer the Thruxton racetrack and attain his Racing Drivers Licence.
First six here
Part of Six sentence Sunday.