She lifted the receiver and made the final call. It was an emotional moment, after all, the old Ford had served as her home several times over the decade she’d owned it. It was her “safe” zone where she could curl up in the seat, all doors locked, and feel totally at ease. It was the only thing of value she had left. Gulping, she dialed the tow company…
‘Yes, Ma’am, sixteen minutes.’
She hung up, walked across the parking lot and patted the old, spray-painted hood. ‘Well, Betty-Boop, it’s time so say goodbye.’ Sniffing, she wiped away a tear.
Wc:100 words exactly.
Thank you to our lovely hostess Friday Fictioneers,, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Thank you, J. Hardy Carroll for our photo this week. You can find us all at: https://rochellewisoff.com/?wref=b
Author’s Note: So many of you know that I’ve been virtually without my car since April 25. In that time, I’ve walked 698 miles, and have lost so much weight I’ve gone from XXX pants down to a Large… a good thing, but I could think of a million better ways to do it. In that time I’ve been actively seeking both employment and an affordable used car both to no avail. Family decided that we had to have a car and so bought me a “new” used Chevrolet Cruze. It’s got so many safety features and warranties that I’m still blown away by it all. I named her “Spark” for her fire engine red color. Let’s just say that Spark has Spunk!