Metal wrenches against metal.  Too much time on the trigger.  A baby screams.  Fingers strain as a wheel slugs into place and a hand chops down to mark job done.  The time is unconvincing.

Final chance to slice the margins downwards.  The stopwatch flies – slick and precise.  In the first blur the wheel nut traps in the gun and the brief scramble to realign surges the time to over 35 seconds.   Aspiration deflates … it’s been a coffee and croissants performance suitable only for caravans.

Continue reading →