Vingnette

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Mowers hummed in my subdivision. Clear blue sky. A golf cart was sitting in the driveway. It was tan. Dirty. My sister and I took on the job of washing it. We were as gentle as a sixteen year old with their first car. We finished. Dad loaded it up into the trailer as he said he would be back. Fresh cut grass was in the air.
A few days later it was unrecognizable. There was blue where the old tan was. A bench seat replaced the club holders. Speakers throbbed with music. There were shiny rims on the tires. Bright lights. They flashed around the bottom in a manipulative pattern. Thanks were given. Rides were given. Our friends loaded up. Everyone got a chance to drive. Sarah. She took the drivers seat. Wheel in her hands now. Eyes…not on the road. I gripped the seat tight.





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