photo essay: Kings Lynn stock cars
I swear... she lifted the entire car by the back wheel...
photo essay: Kings Lynn stock cars
You might not be able to read it, but the ring on the pinkie finger says BITCH.
This is the moment when the man in green and yellow overalls realised there’s more to life than watching converted hearses hurtling around the Kings Lynn Speedway track, because right here, four from the left, there’s a real live woman.
Among the wrecked cars, the oil, the machine parts, the tools, the puddles - a moment of stillness, with this careful writing of the name Donny.  Half an hour later this car was being smashed into as it made its orbits of the track.
Each time he swung the sledgehammer into his car it looked, from where I was standing, as if he was trying to knock the miniature image of his bored girlfriend off the front of the bonnet.
She didn’t, in fact, budge at all.
Hot chips on hot metal.  I liked the way the chips began to levitate just before I took the picture.