Here’s my flash fiction story written in response to Sunday Photo Fiction
Another state, another license plate.
The wire slides neatly into the slit. I wiggle. It catches.
“If you weren’t here doing this what would you be doing?”
This isn’t the time for existential philosophical contemplation or discussion. Stealth, speed silence are what’s required of this moment. So I wait until we are inside to answer my dead father.
With the wiggle of wire, there is a click. I have the door open. We slide into the cream new leather upholstery smell. In the muffled silence I answer.
“Probably the same thing but in a different state.”
Plastic cover removed, I touch two different coloured cables together. They spark. The energy of their electricity releases a flicker of flame, the light of ignition.
Ra ra ra, the smooth hum as the engine growls to life. The spirit of the vehicle resurrected.
I know what he’s up to. Haunting me with his questions. Making me wonder if there’s more to life. A purpose other than my relentless pilgrimage for him. He’s persistent.
And so am I.
I will drive until I am in a new state, with new laws to escape from my crime. One car leads me to the next. A chain of state slates. Alabama, Virginia, Florida, Kansas. I have a clear vision of my shrine to the man who taught me to drive, gave me a purpose.
The engine purrs into gear. The car rolls smoothly away stretching towards a new future. Another state, another license plate.