I Had A Fast Car...

Dear Diary,

Even though I’ve found happiness here (finally!), I can’t help but think of the world I came from. My friends, my family, my job…and there are so many simple things that I miss, like turning on the radio or the television any time you want to, taking a shower whenever you’re dirty, toothpaste, cell phones…you get the drift.
Out of all the things I had, though, I have to say the one I miss the most here is my car. It’s not that I had a tricked-out sports car or anything—it was a Subaru Outback sedan, kind of a maroon color, but I loved it.

I miss it for the obvious reason, of course—we’ve made most of this trip on either horseback or foot, except for the very memorable dragon ride—and that takes a toll, not to mention time. It’s become a fact of life now that, when I roll myself up in the blanket next to the fire at night, my back hurts, my legs and my feet ache, and I’m exhausted.

You don’t realize how much cars protect you, either, from the dust and pollen in the air, bugs flying in your face and down your shirt, and of course, from crazy alien guys attacking you with spears. I never thought about how safe being encased in that glass and steel capsule made me feel until I didn’t have it anymore.

But there’s the memories, too, and I think that bothers me more than anything. Memories of driving in the summer with Shannon and Ashleigh, all the windows down, singing to the radio at the top of our lungs, our hair whipping each other in the faces. And sitting in the parking lot of Rita’s with a strawberry ice, bare feet propped up on the open windowsill, talking and giggling and slurping Italian ice…having a car, and being in a car, kind of symbolizes being carefree to me now. And carefree is something I don’t know if I’ll ever be again.

--June

June is the heroine of Surviving Serendipity, by Jacquelyn Sylvan. Buy now at Amazon or Quake Direct!