Growing up, grandpa’s 1957 Chevy sat dead in the driveway. My brothers and I often sat behind the wheel and traveled the highways of our imagination.
My driver’s permit in hand, dad said, “I’ve got an idea.”
Hours of labor later, the Chevy purred. I helped too.
“Nothin’ comes for free,” my dad told me.
I cherished the time spent with him. Moving on with a family of my own, the Chevy rested in our back yard. My kids soared the same highways. Until my daughter arrived home one day with her driver’s permit.
“I’ve got an idea!” I said.
Inspired by “Friday Fictioneers,” a weekly challenge to write a story using only 100 words and hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff Fields. If you would like to read other stories or join in by adding your own take on the photo supplied by Ted Strutz, visit HERE.