It’s mostly white
with a patina of rust and soot near the exhaust.
The door gives a loud tired creak as I swing it open.
And when I slide into this couch with four wheels
I can smell the aroma of motor oil, diesel,
old plastic and almost half a century of dust fills the cabin.
I put the key into the ignition.
Without hesitation a loud buzzing ensues
reminding me to put on my seat belt.
Only the most important gauges work on the dashboard
the oil pressure and engine temperature.
Mice chewed through some of the wires as it sat in the countryside of Carmel
waiting for someone with 700 dollars cash to drive it away
I didn’t even bother negotiating a lower price
I always new it would get me where I needed to go.