Jaguar, it rolls along your tongue. A 14 year old wangling a ride on a test run in a customer's '64 E-Type. Flat out at 140 indicated in a roadster; the bite of the fall air as the slipstream ripped the hair out of my head.
Race
Fluid, air rolling along the sweeping curves of the 'D's chassis, a little tumbling at the rear, time to shake, like a wet dog, sorting matters to achieve an equilibrium. Unceremoniously smashed by the Porsche's bubbling shape, to be counseled back to some form by the roaring Ferrai's. Tough, the life and times of a molecule at the track.
