by Chase Holdren

Created on: June 22, 2009

I am searching for a break from this common world, and past experience tells me taking a seat at my window is my best option. This window is not the window to my drive-way, or backyard; it is the window into a moving world. Really, you can see everything through this window, save the holder of the window, my car. The hairline crack on the windshield displays itself with uncertainty as it travels across the handmade oily writing that will never be missed. Covered in steel blue, it may not seem like much, but it is where it takes me, not how it takes me, that is important. It was once my father's, but now it is mine, and I have made it such; additions of stuffed animals, and empty water bottles, and the subtraction being the missing fender piece. Occasionally it houses my friends, and it always houses my occasional friends. Taking me to places I want to go, and sometimes places I don't; my car is a piece of what makes me special, as I help to make my car special. It is a functional relationship. In this place fit for vacation in my eyes, the rain beats down on the hood, and the world doesn't matter anymore.

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