The air smells of burnt rubber and kerosene. The track is grippy and rubbered-in from the hundreds of karts that pass over it every day. The sounds of the city beyond fall away; the roar of the two-stroke engines and the squeal of tyres mixes with shouted curses and laughter.

The track blurs past, again and again; Daniel doesn’t need to think to... See more

They stagger on the sand, holding each other up. Both of them are giggling a little deliriously; Max is very close, their wings meshed together.

Daniel doesn’t realise he is crying until he feels the tears on his cheeks. He doesn’t know why he thought flying would feel different, when it felt like getting into a well-set-up Formula One car again;... See more