Inanimate Objects Have Feelings

And other things I wish I could make myself unbelieve, PART ONE

After what I can only describe as a long battle, my white 2011 Ford Fiesta is no longer with us.

My noble steed, gone.

At least from my life.

I like to think a very nice person who would never leave fast food bags in the backseat bought it from the impound lot where I last said goodbye and is driving to the beach right this moment. I left the sparkly cover on the steering wheel and the hoop skirt of mysterious origins in the trunk, hoping the mementos would provide a sense of comfort.

To the car.

Because, now that the frustration of finding out my car was towed and the embarrassment of not being able to pay to get it back has dissipated, I’m left with a nagging worry: That my car is unhappy.

It was reported “abandoned.” What if it actually feels that way?