Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
It was strange that their final day should end in this motel carpark. Memories gushed over Jimmy in torrents. Here was where he’d fallen for her, where they’d begun the road trip that sealed their future. How he’d relaxed, lost his inhibitions on that trip.
Over there was where he’d called her ugly names, frustrated by her bouts of stubbornness. He grimaced at that memory.
But this was goodbye. E-bay had brought them together here, and now E-bay was parting them. Jim checked the delivery address, gave the dash a gentle rub and stepped out into the rain.
*****
This is my contribution to this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Each week, Rochelle selects a picture prompt, with the challenge to compose a complete story in 100 words.
Onto the page 
Dear Margaret,
I had a Nissan that I named Consuelo. I actually cried when we had to trade her in. She needed too many repairs. So I understand Jimmy’s mixed feelings. Subtle and well written.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thank you, Rochelle. As soon as we give them a name, the union is sealed. Hard to let go, then.
Margaret
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Beautifully done with a gentle twist. I can identify with that.
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We do get attached to our cars. I think sometimes they become an extension of our homes – we spend a lot of time driving around, perhaps with various family members, and memories are built from the interactions, good or bad, that occur in those confined spaces. Thanks, Sandra, for reading and commenting.
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My son was in tears when we had to sell our mini-van – the one we brought him home from the hospital and he had rode in for all his life upto that point. Well done story that shows that invisible emotional link between man and car!
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It seems to be a common experience. We do become fond of our vehicles. I hope your son was able to come to terms with the loss eventually. Thank you for the feedback.
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Sweet story.
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Thank you, Tracey.
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Ahhh… giving up my first car… I so remember that!
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I suspect you’re in good company. One’s first car is such a powerful symbol of coming-of-age, independence, freedom – or so we think at the time. Thanks for leaving a comment.
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They have personalities: some folk just don’t believe!
Good piece.
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From the comments I’m reading, there are quite a few true believers among the Fictioneers. Thanks for your comment, Mick.
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I love my little car. And it loves me. Parting must have been such sweet sorrow. Now I’m being soppy!
Rosey Pinkerton’s blog
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You’re not alone. Most of us become a little soppy about our cars. Thanks for commenting, Rosey.
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This was fun!
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I’m glad it was entertaining. Thanks for the feedback.
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I have never been in love with a car.. But I can feel the emotions,
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You seem to be in a minority, Bjorn, going by the tone of other comments for this story. I’m glad you were able to imagine how it feels and one day maybe you’ll come across the vehicle that does it for you. It’s got to be out there somewhere.
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What a ride you took us on. Well done.
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Thank you, Alicia. Hope you enjoyed it.
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