The Write Life

Marie sat in the drivers’ seat caressing the steering wheel. Vanilla musk tickled her nose. My car…She smiled until something interrupted her pleasant existence.

Someone is trying to steal my car... The guy just plopped into her lap.

“Leave my car alone.” Her scream did not bother him. She began beating on him, trying to get him out. With no response, she decided to try something else. She reached over and flipped on the radio. Music, loud and grating, began pounding from the speakers. When that startled the would-be thief, she switched on the windshield wipers as well.

###

“What the hell?” George, climbed out of the purple PT Cruiser. He glanced back inside to find it still and quiet. The radio was silent and the wipers had stopped. He turned an incredulous face towards the owner. “It was cold, the radio blasted on, and the wipers started.”

He stuffed trembling hands into his pockets to steady them. He dared to glance at Mark.

The older man shook his head.

“It’s a tragic story really.” Mark winced and began to explain. “I had the car sold. An older woman brought the check from her bank. Her daughter drove her up to pick up the car.” He trailed off.

George remained silent, giving him a chance to continue.

“The excitement must have been too much. She climbed into the drivers’ seat, set her hands on the steering wheel, and…died.”

George stared at him. “Died?”

“The paramedics said it was a major coronary, she was alive one minute, and then gone. Her daughter was pretty shaken up. She had to hang around to make arrangements for the body.”

Mark sighed. “Happens every time I get someone interested in buying it. Once they climb in the car starts acting weird.” He shrugged helplessly with defeat. “I was hoping this time would be different, sorry.”