The hinges protested loudly as I pushed and pulled to open the doors of my grandfather's old barn, but finally they were swung wide. I peered into the interior, the dust motes swirling and glittering in the sunlight. The center of the barn had been commandeered long ago by my grandfather's pride and joy, while the tractor and the combine rusted in the fields. It still sat, waiting under a dust cover, for a man who would never come again. I felt like a groom reaching hesitantly and slowly pulling the cover to the side. The gleaming red of the 1969 Cadillac El Dorado convertible was revealed. I stood quietly, my hand on the door. With no more oil or gas to be found, the car was nothing more than a boat-sized paperweight, yet my grandfather had always refused to sell it for scrap. Instead, he cherished the dinosaur, polishing the chrome for hours every Sunday after the family dinners. I had spent hours here, curled up on the backseat, while he polished every inch of the car. He took me hurtling down back roads, the wind scouring away sins, small and large, until, my grandfather said, he felt as though he had been licked clean by the rough tongue of a cat, and he felt lighter than the air.
I stared at the driver's seat and saw my grandfather, with his hands on the wheel, smiling at me, his eyes twinkling, his laughter resonating in my heart. And I wept.
DINOSAUR
This is fiction. While I would love to own such a car, I'd be afraid to drive it!
Very funny and interesting bicycle model.
ReplyDeleteAutomatic number plate recognition
That's lovely. The business about no more oil or gas to be found makes me wonder if it's a loss of more than just the grandfather that the narrator is weeping about. Well done.
ReplyDeleteI think that driving is a very American experience. So much so that even if we did run out of gas, someone would come up with a way to drive a car without it!
DeleteYour word choices were so good I read this four times. "Hinges protested" = perfect. My grandfather had a 1967 Oldsmobile and the door hinges sounded like the Addams Family house door opening.
ReplyDeleteThis is one of your strongest pieces you've written because it has so much heart and vivid pictures.
The last two lines are just motherflubbin' art
Wow! I have read this over and over today, and I smile every time. I admire your writing, and I am glad that you liked this! Thank you!
DeleteWhat a wonderful piece. If fictional, seems it would fit in well as part or the beginning of a story. would love to see wehre this goes. You're a good writer. Love to have you join my writing community or forum on my blog:
ReplyDeletehttp://www.awriterweavesatale.com
Thank you!
DeleteThis is wonderful story. Yeah, I'm wondering about the gas and oil. This sounds like the beginning of a grander tale. Please write more.
ReplyDeleteIf the muse will allow me, I will.
Deletewow, great piece! LOVE it!!! I especially like this line: licked clean by the rough tongue of a cat.
ReplyDeletebest,
MOV
Thanks! My cat was sitting on the printer giving herself a bath while I was working. It inspired me.
DeleteThis is beautifully written. My throat caught at the end.
ReplyDeleteThank you. I got a little choked up writing this.
DeleteYou've got some great imagery here. I especially love "felt as though he had been licked clean by the rough tongue of a cat" - that is such a unique description. Great job!
ReplyDeleteI figured it was fiction when you mentioned a lack of oil or gas.
ReplyDeleteLovely bit of flash fiction. Sad reminders of days gone by :)
I love the lines the wind scouring away sins and boat-sized paperweight. Nicely crafted. Thanks for linking up with us. Please come on back tomorrow for the new challenge.
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