Each week I take part in a meme called Wicked Wednesdays. I do this for two reasons, it’s great writing practice and it’s fun… This meme is not restricted to writing but writing is what I love to do so…
What the hell was he thinking? Sending her out to another guy for a week? She didn’t like the idea one bit, not one little bit, but she knew she had no choice.
Now she found herself in unfamiliar territory. She found herself encased in what seemed like a plastic tomb. Everywhere she looked all she could see was thick heavy plastic, and while it scared her it also excited her more than just a little.
Over the past two days she had been accustomed to being touched by someone different, had grown to appreciate his softer touch, his attention to detail. He was much younger than her actual owner, but still he seemed to understand that attention to detail was everything. He had run his hands over the length of her body when she had first entered the plastic tomb, felt every contour and fold of her chassis. Caressed her till she could stand it no more. Maybe this week would not be as bad as she had feared.
Today, however, she barely recognized him. His face covered by a strange contraption, his breathing deep and somewhat ragged, but what really scared her most was the large nozzle he held in his hands. It resembled the gun that she had seen her owner firing into the target at the back of the barn and she knew the destructive power it possessed. Had he really sent her here to die? Without warning, he pulled the trigger, and she braced for the destruction that was sure to follow…
Instead she felt a warmth as he peppered her body, not with bullets, but some kind of slippery, cool substance. She had no idea what he was doing, but she was aware that it made her feel good. Really good! She looked at his covered face but could make out only his eyes, and the feeling of euphoria he was achieving each time he pressed the trigger was unmistakable.
For about an hour he worked on her. Spraying her, until he took a moment to stand back and look at his handiwork. She could see the smile and she felt a sense of pride. For five more days this routine continued. Each day he would return, rub her down roughly, spray some more of the liquid on her and then look back and admire his handiwork.
Once the week was up, she was taken to a place that she recalled being once before, many years ago. The familiar smell of exhaust, heat, and rubber hit her as they roared into the arena. She caught a glimpse of herself in another car’s side mirror and had too look several times. Had she been able to pinch herself, she probably would have. She was accustomed to seeing herself, pitted and flaky, but as she stared at her reflection, she realized that her new lover had restored more than her faith in humanity, but faith in herself. His paint job was amazing and his attention to detail incredible. Ever curve, every edge smooth, shiny and impeccable. Just like it had been when she had first stepped out into the showroom many years before.
This weeks Meme was accompanied by the prompt: Write from the perspective of a car that has just received a new paint job. If you enjoyed my attempt then please be sure to check out the other amazing pieces by clicking the banner!