hello kitty steering wheel cover

c}{imps 8 my ears

That Day Came

Someone married their car. They found great joy in the way some parts of it were proud and others shy, and vibrations of the revving engine. They added aftermarket ground effects to increase its sex appeal.

The owner’s manual left no room for doubt, no space for deception, and prepared them for all eventualities. They were married for a very short time indeed when they were able to establish a baseline for operating costs. It could be said that they knew when the costs would begin to outweigh the value, and when they could expect to want to trade in.

When that day came, the car did not cry. Someone did not cry. You’ve changed, they said. The car went on to be resold a handful of times to less and less discerning buyers. Along the way, it lost some inessential parts, while gaining some others, a cheap steering wheel cover in the likeness of Hello Kitty, some pink neon ground lights, and some cheap plastic hubcaps. It developed a limp. It listed to the right when there were no hands on the wheel. It became difficult to operate.

Someone lived a life of service – stations. They were useful and fun to run around with. Someone will never rust, they will go to body shops. Someone exists, as a concept. Someone replaces every part of themself. They are a symphony of value and aesthetics.