Perspective

Perspective

My boyfriend asked if I could pick up his car at the shop because he had to work late and they were closed tomorrow. He’s never even let me drive it before. I told him I could drive a standard; I just hadn’t driven one in a while, perfect! Of course, in reality, I’d never driven a standard “car” it was more of a tractor... and I was fourteen. But, hey, how hard could it be?

The shop was nearby. It’s on a hill across the tracks. Plus, walking distance from my apartment building. Half a mile-ish, actually, just the other side of the tracks, I could walk. I’d never been there, of course, they only worked on foreign cars. I drive an eighty-four Chevy.

By the time I got there Jeff had it all set up, the guy was apparently in a rush to close, he handed me the keys, and left. I had kinda hoped I could get someone to walk me through it, but, oh well. I jumped in.

It was so perfect, though there were a lot of levers and buttons I hadn’t noticed as the passenger. Still I only had to get it to my apartment building parking lot, half a mile. I could do this. Well, no, I couldn’t.

I didn’t realize I was in reverse until I popped the clutch and the car and I bounded backwards over the edge of the embankment that overlooked the railroad tracks. Fortunately, we landed in a tree. Unfortunately, I can’t get out of the car. Also unfortunately, I forgot my phone. I keep yelling but nobody hears me. It’s getting dark, trains keep going by. I’m thinking my lovely new relationship may be over.

Oh look! There’s the first star of the night! Make a wish!