xchange's Journal

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Its an absolutly freezing night. An unassuming pearl blue gemini sits dormant in a no parking zone in kippax' north-east, behind it, a baby blue mk1 escort sits waiting in anticipation. Its fairly quiet here away from all the hustle and bustle assosiated with civic on a friday night. Suddenly the unmuffled roar of a series V rx7 breaks the silence, this one in plain white with menacing carbon fibre adornments. The driver tears apart the asphalt with a fishtail and pulls up behind the two stationary cars and all goes quiet. The silence accentuated by the darkness surrounding them, the distinctive whirr of a power window motor breaks the deathly silence and a few ushered words are exchanged between the rx7 and the escort sitting line astern. A police chaser circles the block seeking out potential wrong-doers, using their typical scare tactics, driving slowly with ugly stern looks on their face and writing down numberplates. But no-one budges, they know they're not doing anything illegal........... well, not yet anyway.