It’s time for another Friday Fictioneers. I asked my wife what genre to write and she said, “romance”. So this is about as close as I get to romance. This story is dedicated to her.
copyright Beth Carter
Ichiban The Great
I told my wife I married her for her car. She laughed and called me an idiot.
Ichiban, as we called it, was dirty-diaper brown and shivered like a Floridian doing the Iditarod if you got it over 70 MPH. We lost the front bumper to a deer; the back one to a malicious fire hydrant. The hubcaps all took their leave at high speeds on various country highways.
Finally, we lost the roof to a firefighter trainee who Jaws-Of-Lifed it off, mistaking ours for the practice car. We just laughed and kissed. We had our convertible, top permanently down.
The Green-Walled Tower 