PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz
Written for Friday Fictioneer
“I bought it with my first salary.” The old man reminisced.
“Papa, I know, but we should sell the car!”
“It got my new bride, your mother home and carried you from the hospital.”
“I know!”
“I have had such good times driving it.”
“Papa, we must sell the car.” This time the steel in the voice was unmistakable.
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I enjoyed the use of the word steel,
Thank you Michael, I agree the metal does provide certain sharpness to the tale!
Dear Anshu,
Amazing how a person can get attached to a hunk of metal, isn’t it? Although I sense there’s more story layered between your simple lines. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thank you Rochelle. People are so sentimental about things.
We do get attached to these vehicles, and rely on them far too much! Nicely done.
Thank you Iain! Yes, we get attached to so many materialistic things in life.
It’s not so much the car, but the shift of control brought on by age that worries me about this scenario.. Expertly told.
Every generation experiences this shift of power – the younger one usurping it from the older one.
The transfer of the balance of power subtlely wrought.
Thank you Sandra, glad you understood it!
Bah humbug! But I guess it is taking up space, if it no longer works…
Taking up space – physical and mental both
Retrieving the power to decide from the old man. Sad story. sniff!
I guess the younger generation does it without giving it much of a thought – it comes naturally to them.
Nice use of steel. Generations tend to value thing differently, dont they?
Thank you. So true, every generation has different sensibilities.
The slow and painful process of divesting an elder of the pieces of his life. Always sad.
True Linda! The heart goes out to the old man
Oh! I wish she could have found a way to not sell the car to which her old father was attached.
I hope so too…thank you for reading the post! 🙂
Not much room for old memories. New generation wants to move on, if necessary by trampling over sentiments.
I guess the new generation doesn’t have much time for such sensibilities.
I think all good things will come to an end… memories can linger even without the thing, which many people fail to understand.
Yes, people should realise that that things are not memories!
I think as we get older, we are afraid that if we lose the thing that reminds us of a certain memory, we’ll lose the memory itself. A multi-layered told in a few words. Well-done!
Thank you Brenda, with age we lose so many things – the memory and the authority!
We have sentimental value attached to so many things.
Tough to sell such things.
It’s anyone’s guess who wins the argument.
Car In Cylone – Anita
ha ha, true! I have decided not to attach myself too much to materialistic things
It is not just the pieces of metal or a running vehicle but the memories attached to it cannot be sold away or sold it in scrap. loved the last line.
https://ideasolsi65.blogspot.com/2019/01/a-car-named-desire.html
So true Kalpana, some memories are priceless
Just a hunk of junk, is what I’m hearing from the son or daughter, I notice the gender not specified, lovely ambiguous stuff
Thank you! Yes just a hunk of junk for the child and a precious thing for the father
Memories for the old man and just a lump of metal for the progeny. The contrast in the different voices comes across very well.
Thank you Subroto – each generation thinks and speaks differently
Great voices. I don’t like the son much – that car can’t be worth a lot after all those years – let the old man keep it.
Yes, Liz, that would be the most logical or sensible thing to do.
His memories are tied up in that car, it’s a shame if he’s forced to get rid.
So true Michael
The power is shifting. Like it
gramswisewords.blogspot.com
Maybe Marian..sometimes people like to hold onto memories
it’s hard selling memories…
So true Jennifer
All of those good memories for him, hard to replace with money, except when it’s needed. Well done.
Thank you Sascha! Glad you liked it!
I am sure there are memories attached. Mother’s memories, may be?
It’s hard to let go of memories.
So true, Lisa!