Nice Bentley
Contributed by
enigma
on
Thursday, 7th February 2008 @ 09:40:17 PM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
Nice Bentley
...of a sudden,
there he was...
"Nice Bentley," the wrinkled old man said.
Without giving us a chance to reply,
he continued;
"Gave one to a couple of my kids some time back...
it's a classic, you know...
that one you have,
that there one,
a classic...
don't think I've seen another like it...
one of a kind, it is..."
He gave his head a fatherly nod...
"Yup...one of a kind...
not another like it..."
Then, with white wispy locks wafting in the breeze,
a concerned but warm smile on his lips,
he turned and moved on.
As his figure faded into the distant shimmering haze,
we stood with mouths agape...
...a bit stupefied,
really...
We'd recently talked about getting rid of it...
a bit of a burden,
you see,
maintenance and everything...
special this and special that...
couldn't even open the hood;
never even saw the engine;
never heard it either,
just assumed it had one;
it moved and all,
you know,
so I suppose it did...
...insurance was the real kicker,
that alone kept us living hand to mouth...
not that anything ever went wrong with it,
but jealous eyes watched us wherever we went...
never knew when we might step out the door and it would be gone...
...because of it,
we could only afford one car and had to rent...
we were stuck with each other's itinerary...
Heck! We could have bought two really fine houses for what it was worth...
...we didn't though;
we couldn't,
really...
the Bentley was a gift...
a very noticeable gift...
gifts like that can be real awkward...
everyone would know the day we let it go...
there'd be questions,
we'd be criticized,
everyone would want to know why...
nobody would want to understand...
it was a burden to keep;
it would be a hassle to let it go...
And then out of nowhere there was this Old Man...
still a mystery...
The Bentley wasn't the problem, though,
really...
it was us;
we just didn't have any use for it;
no appreciation for it,
you know...
after the initial thrill and everything,
it just got heavy around our necks;
too demanding and all...
None of us could change,
it seemed;
the Bentley,
her,
or me.
It was over two years after the Old Man stopped and spoke to us...
we parked it in the garage,
hit the garage door opener to close the garage door...
...now, that seemed odd,
you know,
an opener that closes...
...nobody calls it a garage door closer;
it does that, too...
...don't know if we'd a bought it if we'd known;
seemed to fit in with what we were doing, though...
...we left the keys on the driver's seat,
closed the Bentley's doors,
opened the entry door on the garage's north side,
exited through...
Damn!
There it is again,
exiting through an entry door...
nobody said it was an exit door when we bought it;
nobody tells you anything;
go figure...
...well,
we closed it,
the exit-entry door,
and that was it...
we looked at each other,
nodded to each other,
and without another thought,
walked away...
her footsteps heading east,
and mine heading west;
never intending to return.
I've never figured why it was the Old Man gave the Bentley to us in the first place...
must have had his reasons,
I suppose;
most old men do,
and he was old...
rko
june twenty-nine, two thousand, six
seven o one p.m.
Copyright ©
enigma
... [
2008-02-07 21:40:17]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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