SUCKS TO BE YOU

WOW: Toy. The little flaws are what make her special.

Disclaimer: I don't own her

xxxxx

The Impala watched the other cars as she hurtled along the highway; all of them far newer than her, with gleaming metallic paintwork and more whizz-bang special effects than a Spielberg movie.

She could see them sneering at her rust-spotted chrome and the boxy lines of her chassis; smirking, as they passed, at the agricultural growl of her fifty-year-old engine.

There was no whistle from lego shoved in their heating vents, or persistent rattle from a toy soldier jammed in their ashtrays.

No-one small and lonely had scratched their names into those vehicles' door trim.

They were pristine. They were perfect.

She pitied them.

xxxxx

end