I solemnly peer through the translucent, kitchen window with a languishing glimpse at the family car. It is obliquely parked in the deteriorating, cemented driveway epitomizing the moon with deep crevasses on midnight twilight, casting a gloomy silhouette throughout the sky. I leisurely stride towards the weary automobile and scrutinize its every feature. The fading away of the once shiny, wine-red, glossy paint now reveals a dull and ravaged appearance, similar to that of dead skin cells peeling away, subsequent to a blistering afternoon at the beach. I steadily saunter the perimeter of the automobile and perceive its corroding exterior resembling the crumbling away of newly fallen foliage in the midst of a brisk autumn evening. I firmly clutch the cold, metal handle and slowly slide the door ajar. The fragrance of a car-freshener dangles from the rear view mirror and ubiquitously illuminates the atmosphere with its strawberry breeze scent eliminating the pungent odor of a musty rug. I mount the vehicle and step on to the soft, crimson carpet. Subsequently, I pounce into the uncomfortable, stiff seat, like a lion seizing its prey. I continually squirm, like a caterpillar emerging from a chrysalis, until I find the most tranquil position and anticipate the entrance of my family. My reflection of tranquility instantly transforms into a state of liveliness with the presence of my family as we venture towards our destination. The rattling noises bellow from the car like loose change swishing around in a washing machine. To drain the noise, the four children simultaneously ask our copilot, our mom, to turn on the radio. We anxiously wait as she reaches for the on-button, but we are quickly disappointed to hear the sound of static, similar to the crinkling of aluminum foil. Due to the absence of a working radio, we play what many people would believe to be nonsense games, but to us, they are endearing and memorable. One of these games is Naked Fish, which provides us with a bonding experience. We sit in anticipation throughout the car ride in the hopes of being the first to catch a glimpse of the restaurant and yell, NAKED FISH,Ó to win the game. My sister strategically sparks an in depth conversation about her new boyfriend eager to distract her competitors. However, her plan backfires, because she gets caught up in her story and loses sight of the game, which costs her the win. This allows my mom to shout Naked FishÓ and provides her with the victory and bragging rights. The characteristics of the vehicleÕs external exhausted appearance can no longer conceal the shimmering sparkle from within the car. We pile out of the van as radiant stars revealing a blinding light of enjoyment.
September 1, 2007