Perspective

Perspective kicks the tires on her

brand new Point of View

while Philosophy checks the oil.

 

Slamming the hood, he shakes his head,

“Hope you aren’t planning to go too far.”

 

“I never plan on it.  Sometimes it just turns out that way.”

 

He purses his lips, considering, as he yanks on the handle

of the driver’s side door,

thrusting his head inside to inspect the controls.

 

“Rear view mirror is cracked,” he gestures with a jab of his grease-stained finger.

 

“Standard feature.  Objects in the mirror are never as they appear.”

 

He grunts, amused.

 

He slides behind the wheel, scanning the instrument panel.

 

“Automatic Window Fogger?” He raises his eyebrows, peering at her from beneath the bill of his cap.

 

“That’s new with this model.  Replaces ‘cruise control’.  Pretty high tech.

Activates as soon as you lock on to a destination.”

 

He furrows his eyebrows.

 

“Sensors in the steering wheel,” she motions to the row of tiny metal beads imbedded in the leather.

 

His eyes sweep the panel…radio, temperature controls, speedometer.

 

“What kind o’ mileage you get?”

 

“Variable.  Here, check this out.”

 

She reaches in and presses an icon on the screen above her radio.

In moments, a read out appears.

 

“Ouch!  That’s not good.” 

 

She disappears around the back, popping the trunk.

Laughing, she returns, waving a small book in the air.

 

“Here’s the culprit,” tossing it to him.

 

He notes the title:

You Deserve It!  Twenty Sure-Fire Ways to Make the Universe Do Your Bidding!

 

“One little puppy like this in your trunk can cut your mileage in half.  Add a couple of those,” tipping her head toward the copy of “Make Them Give You All Their Money, NOW!” clutched in the hands of the Suit seated in the lobby, “and you may as well get out and start walking.”

 

Lifting himself out of the car, he rubs his head, taking a long breath.

 

“You heading out then?”

 

“Yep.  It’s high time, wouldn’t you say?”

 

“Wouldn’t like a map, I don’t imagine,” jutting his chin toward the rack next to the shop’s bay window.

 

Beyond, she sees the wild geese beating their way across the autumn sky.

 

“Got one,” she says, and smiles.