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June 28, 2012.
It is the first dry day in what seems like living memory, and even then it is forecasted with light showers.
Late in the afternoon, under a blend of intense sun in a clear sky and intermittent rain (somehow), several thousand people descend on a large commuter village on the outskirts of Nottingham. Why has this happened? Why is the main road through the village cordoned off? Why are the police in attendance? Why are several international companies flogging their wares to the assembled masses? Why has my brother stayed at home for this?
At about quarter to five, however, it all becomes clear.
Months of preparation, months of coordinated effort, months of suspense that amounted to little more than a tiny announcement in the local free newsletter, have all come to this town being included in one of the biggest moments of their nation's recent history.
And then, immediately afterwards,almost everyone clears off. Seriously. An anthrax alarm would have been less effective at getting people to leave. Although, perhaps the touring soft-drinks truck and the music blaring from it were a slightly more insidious proposition.
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Yes. I saw the Olympic torch. 
Unfortunately, I forgot to pack my camera. 
And this little two-shot has been in the works since that evening, with a 'Pedro de la Rosa's career'-esque staccato. As a result... I'm going to be very adventurous and say that this is probably not my best work. How adventurous of me.
Still, I hope you enjoyed it. 
And, as I mentioned above, there will be a second chapter to accompany this, which will be based somewhat more along my own experience, and with a different main character.
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