Another short story? why not.

Peter sighed and put the wrench down.

‘With any luck, this pile should fire up now…”

He grabbed the key from the workbench, greasy fingers made it difficult for him to not drop it. He lined the key up with the ignition switch, and slid it home. The satisfying ‘chink’ of the tumblers engaging was always something he always enjoyed.

He wiped his hands on his shirt, trying to remove some of the grease before touching the rest of the controls.

Turning the key, he heard the fuel pump prime, the dash cycling through its function, and lay ready, waiting for the monster to run. Holding his breath, Pete pressed the starter button on the control pod, watchful eyes glues to the bike

the starter motor spun frantically, struggling to turn over the high compression twin to idle. ‘Maybe time for a new battery’ mused Peter. He could hear the bike struggling to fire, the cylinders coughing occasionally out the twin, under tail akrapovic cans. He let go of the starter, not wanting to burn it out. Bending down, he noted the idle adjustment for the throttle bodies were backed out past its adjustment. He twiddled the dial a bit, threading it back into range.

He held down the starter button again, the engine once again struggling to turn over. But it was different this time. The engine seemed to spin faster, more eager to awaken from its slumber. Pete gave the bike a bit of throttle. The added air and fuel Ignited in the front cylinder, coughing a cloud of black carbon out the back. This sudden combustion was enough to kick the motor over and the rear cylinder to spring to action as well, coughing and sputtering to life. The Big twin needed some throttle to stay awake, which Peter gladly provided. She clattered and bucked, before warming up and smoothing out into a consistent 4,000 RPM. Pete let go of the throttle then, and let the 90* v-twin settle into its signature lopy idle. Not many enjoyed the mechanical nature of the Ducati motors. The valves were loud and temperamental, the clutch rattled and shook, and the whole bike vibrated with raw power. Too much for the average rider.


Peter donned his helmet and backed the 1200cc sport bike out of the garage. Average rider he was not. Toe-ing the big twin into gear, he set out for a shake down run. Under him, the Ducati rolled happily, eager to see the open road and crunch the miles.

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