Good-bye, my dear old convertible
Today, I sold my beloved old car that was – financially speaking – just not worth repairing. I know that. A part of me was, is even happy to get a new one, a reliable one and one with more space. Yet when I left my “baby“ there at the dealership, all alone on the lot, I felt incredibly sad. I had had this cheeky one for more than six years, and many memories cling to it.
So, this is your obituary, matchbox car.
Thank you for our magical evening rides in summer
when the warm wind blew my silly worries away
(or inspired some articles)
Thank you for the carefree times I sang along to the radio riding open-top
and felt so happy and free
(and ignored curious stares at the traffic lights)
Thank you for your edges and character
that made me roll my eyes in amusement
(why should the radio work regularly? or the top?)
Thank you for bringing me where I needed to go, mostly in time
with style and fun and flow
I am gonna miss taking you for a ride. 🌞