AnElephantCant be a mechanic
With technical stuff – and grammar – he gets totally losted
He is seldom inspired
More often just tyred
In fact today you might say he’s exhausted
Once again it is Friday Fictioneer time.
The Henry Ford of writers, our own Rochelle, manages a production line of wondrous wordsmiths to weld together some smooth-running stories.
And AnElephant fails to create a Model-T tale.
The idea is to write a very short story, circa 100 words, based on this picture prompt (below).
The Service Manager is all smiles.
I am not.
How much, I ask in disbelief.
I paid almost that just two months ago, how can this be?
Still smiling he explains about computer diagnostics, software upgrades, major safety considerations.
I tell him I just want my car to go faster when I press the accelerator, surely not a lot to ask.
He prattles about fuel injection coefficients but I stop him.
How can I cut my losses on this wretched machine, I ask.
Your best chance is the insurance if this place collapses on top of it tonight!
He does not know who I am.
The next morning he is not smiling.
Unbelievable, he says, as we survey the wreckage.
I am all smiles.