Jan 10, 2024
never let the objectum mf into poetry class 😭🗣️💯
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never let the objectum mf into poetry class 😭🗣️💯
The car
(PT: the car)
You stepped out of your car, the cool summer breeze greeting you. You walked to the entrance of the outdoor exhibition. Your face lit up. There it was. A beautiful car, one of the most stunning you’ve ever seen. You instantly recognized the Mercedes 540k cabriolet… It was black and shiny, in perfect condition. You stepped closer. There wasn’t even a scratch to be seen. The hood and roof gleamed in the sunlight. “She a beaut, isn’t she?” You turned around to see a man with a bowler hat and cane. He was tall and had dark skin and was wearing some 1930s fashion. He apparently took his job very seriously. “Yeah” you muttered and stared back at the car.
You placed your hand tenderly on the hood of the car. “You know, she was first introduced in the 1936 Paris motor show…” the man kept on talking. You didn’t want to ignore him, in fear of being rude, but something made your eyes keep darting back to the beautiful car. When you zoned back in, the man looked as if he’d just asked a question. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” you asked. “Would you like to step inside?” he repeated. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks. You’d like that. You’d very much like that. The man carefully opened the door. You’d never heard of being allowed to step into the cars at these exhibitions. But it must be allowed, since there were other people around doing just that.
As you stepped inside and felt the cushion meet your butt, you sighed. It just felt so natural. It was perfect. You instinctively placed your hand on the gear stick, as if you were about to drive. You looked out of the windshield to see other people fascinated by the car you sat in, looking at it in wonder. This was a public show but… you wanted the car all to yourself. You placed both your hands on the wheel. You tried to enjoy the moment. This perfect moment.