Wendy’s Old Mustang

I remember I use to have this old beat up burnt orange 1964 ½ Mustang hardtop. 389 horsepower, V8, white interior with the original stereo. It was part of a life I use to lead a long ass time ago. This mustang had the meanest roar you have ever heard. But it was a tricky piece of metal. The starter wouldn’t work. It was impossible to turn her on the regular way. I had to pop the hood, take the gleaming shiny silver keys to the rusty battery and start her slowly. There was always an initial spark, used to burn my fingers. *spark *spark, then, just like that, roooooaaarrr, strong and urgent she would come to life. I would always smile at that moment as I gazed onto her belly, radiator, transmission, cylinders exposed, staring back at me, daring me to ride her. I had these old boots I loved at the time, brown leather, old and scruffy with killer stomping heels. I would shut the hood, my hand lingering on the sleek curves over the round polished headlights, my heels clicked on the pavement as I walked deliberately slow towards the door. I remember what that noise was like, snap* metal to metal, as I slid onto the drivers seat and secured my place inside her. There was so much to admire, the lustrous silver lining of circular dials, the simplicity of her form, the red meter signaling the speed, she was beautiful, inside and out. My right boot would be placed firmly and securely on the gas pedal…slowly inching down, letting the gas flow through, injecting her with life, vibrating through my body, my fingers would caress the leather steering wheel as I looked onward the untamed road. At that moment, when she was nice and heated, I would take her to the right gear, and with the wheels screeching, engine roaring, we were gone. Zaz! Just like that.
I was proposed to in that car, and I felt heartache in that car. She was with me when I would sit underneath old light posts in the rain, soothing me with the crackling of her radio antenna. Life was different then. Looking back, maybe it wasn’t the road that was untamed. Maybe, it was me.


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