WET PACK

SINATRA HAD THE RAT PACK.

WE HAD THE WET PACK.

THE FORECAST SAID RAIN.

NOBODY CANCELLED.

A harbour. Sideways rain. Black asphalt. More than fifteen Air-Cooled 911s closing ranks.

The weather comes at them from every direction. Water runs over paint, lamps dissolve in the road, the harbour disappears into mist.

The pack gets tighter.

No one needs to discuss it.

WET PACK is the moment when the drive stops being about the route and becomes about the people who simply refuse to turn around.

And somewhere, a dry Porsche sits in a garage wondering why it stayed home.