My mom had a dodge Aries for a brief stint back before I was a teen, and one day a lady ran a stop sign and just ended the second lease on life my mom had just given that thing. she broke her arm in that accident and they carted her off in an ambulance, and left the kids in the company of my grandpa. i remember him kicking the tires on the old thing, muttering, they don’t make ’em like they used to. they carted the car off soon after, and i remember hearing its belly scraping against the pavement as the tow truck hauled it up against it’s bed.
Years later, now i go to junkyards, and poke through them looking for little parts here and there, where they’re still good. Some days it’s almost surreal, seeing all the metal carcasses posed there, as if to be revered. Each one a god with shattered bones
Categories