words and shots by Dan Ewing
It has just gone noon, but the puddles at the end of the drive are still frozen solid, despite the best efforts of the late November sun. My nerves are jangling big time as I back this big brute of a sports car down the crowded drive, between various parked cars, and onto the cul-de-sac beyond. Andy jumps into the passenger seat, I slide the lever into drive, prod the throttle gingerly, and we burble off down the still frosty streets of Glenrothes.
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