Flash Fiction: Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car

“The rust bucket has to go. It’s unsightly. The talk of the town.”
“But it’s got history.”
“Don’t care. It makes the yard look like a dump. It’s nothing more than scrap metal.”
“But the kids were conceived —”
“Ew, Dad. Stop. We’re eating.”

Ben dodged his wife’s potted flowers and circled around his first love. Rachel was right, she was beyond repair. Dreams of doing her up for the twins dashed. How could he part with the Shaggin’ Waggon? If only he could give her a new life…

Lost in thought, Ben tripped over a pot. His muse bloomed with a solution.

Rachel’s blossoms found a new home in the car’s engine. The interior was restored for quickies once more.

The old bomb continued to make tongues wag.

⭐️⭐️⭐️