Boxes (A Reflection)
I adjusted the vents and cursed quietly. I was certain now, the air conditioning wasn't blowing as c I I adjusted the vents and cursed quietly. I was certain now, the air conditioning wasn't blowing as cold as it should've been. The closing weekend of an outdoor Renaissance festival had left me needing more tears to shed to keep pace with my fellow drama-kid performers and more auto coolant, but apparently I didn't have much of either to spare. The older it gets, the more money it will take to maintain it , said a voice. A sports car, even an older one, is a luxury item for someone at your income level. You should sell it and learn to do without. Be realistic about your means. HIM , insisted another voice. I won't sell HIM. There's blood, sweat and tears imbued in this car; I have given him a soul. In return he has brought me to new lives, new identities, over and over. Each one has begun and ended with me alone, behind the wheel, in this seat, my th