Jun 08, 2011

Get the Picture

By James WoodAs we piled into the car, I couldn’t help but feel another twinge of jealously. He was my friend and I was happy for him, I really was. But I was also incredibly jealous that as a senior in high school he got to drive a red 1966 Mustang. If it were a convertible I may not have been able to contain my envy. This day was like any other day, we were headed out after school for track practice. He turned the key and the beautiful engine roared to life bringing an involuntary smile to my face. A moment later it sputtered to silence. He twisted the key in the ignition again, but the engine refused to speak.The object of my envy was transformed, More…