Saturday 1st July 1978
Christophe sat on the grass, downhill from his Harley.
Edward swung wide past it, and then walked back up the slope, so he was in full view the whole time. As he drew closer, he spotted a ragged hole in the side of the silencer: most likely responsible for the odd noise the engine had made the night before.
"Someone appears to have shot your bike."
"They missed my ankle, though." Christophe held up a newly-rolled spliff. "Want some?"
The WiP is progressing ever faster thanks to picowrimo, which incidentally is still open for more to join in this month and/or next month.
If you want to see what other people have been writing, the full list of participants is here. Go give them some comment-love.