The last race of the night is over, the crowd refuses to go home and the stadium floodlights are still blazing. Pixel Usain Bolt was meant to jog one easy lap of honour, but the relay baton handed to him at the finish line turned out to be no ordinary baton. It is solid gold, it hums, and two little sparkler jets fizz out of the back the moment he grips it tight. One squeeze later his feet leave the red track and Floodlight Flight begins, high over the grandstand.
Now the whole stadium is watching him circle above the moon-lit rooftops of the city. The way around is crowded: tall steel floodlight masts, towers of hurdles stacked by an overeager groundskeeper and gleaming gold, silver and bronze podium pillars. Between them spin gold medals on green ribbons, left over from the evening's prize giving. Every gap he slips through earns a roar from the fans below, and every medal he catches sets off a fresh wave of camera flashes in the stands. How far can he fly before the sparklers fizzle out and the lights go down?
