Photo by Blake Barlow on Unsplash

I placed a listing on the web for her. I landed a new job. I was moving across the country, and she no longer fit my plans. It was nothing personal. We had a great run, and great memories of our time together. They say nothing lasts forever.

A guy named Chet answered my ad, and we set up a time to meet so he could look her over, take her for a ride. Chet required the service she could provide and offered cold hard cash. I didn’t refuse.

I was sad to see her go. I thanked Chet for taking her off my hands. I wished her well and tried to forget about her.

The next day my phone rang.  It was Chet.

“Could you please tell me her name?”

“What?”

“What’s the car’s name?”

“I called her Baylee. Why?”

“She won’t let me drive her. Says she only works for people who know her name.”

“Baylee,” I repeated.

Several hours later Chet was banging on my door. When I opened it, he threw the keys at me.

“I want my money back. She only wants you and I’m not about to put up with her shit.”

Chet raged at me while I counted out his cash and I was happy to see his backside.

In the driveway, I stroked her fender before climbing in to start her. She purred.

“I missed you too, baby,” I said as I caressed her dash.

“I promise, I’ll never let you go.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer