Monk

A pretty, pink car parked down the street. Very compact. I was thinking Mother would have gawked at it, loving it, coveting it hard. Then I realized that this car is probably the contemporary version of the old Volkswagen bug, like the one we used to have, bright orange, mom’s own little car. I barely remember it from the mists of childhood.

I wonder if there was something she didn't like about it, maybe it had terrible pick-up speed, no get up & go, because I don't think we had it very long at all, maybe only for several months. More likely, we just couldn't afford to be a two-car family yet. I think she loved that bug. This was a long, long time ago, early 1970s I believe. I wish I could remember more from that time, when I was still a little boy, short of ten years old. Maybe it will come to me. We led such trifle lives, but it was our lives.