Chapter XVII - On foreign shores

Going around the car I tried the frontdoor and after a pull a push and a kick it did allow itself to be opened.
The seats were quite dry if a bit hard, another sign of this particular cars old age. But there is something about just sitting quietly in a car. It is as if you get to experience the eccoes of its many short trips mixed up with a few longer journeys.
In the glove compartment I found some stale apricot shortbread and an old travel brochure with flamboyant pictures of sunsets on foreign shores. Quite romantic and very much an illusion to which no one will fall prey, at least not unknowingly. Well maybe that too worked better years ago when the car was still new.