Tag Archives: car

3rd October 2013 – horse chestnut leaf

Posted on October 4, 2013 by Liz Terry

Caught by the back windscreen wiper, flattened against the blackened glass. It flutters gently as the car moves off. Yellowing with age, ripped from its tree by the autumnal fall, it gives its last display.

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24th August 2013 – black dog

Posted on August 25, 2013 by Liz Terry

He lies on the dashboard, his back pressed against the windscreen. His head flops disconsolately onto his front paws. His sorrowful eyes gaze at the pub entrance, all hope lost. A fog of depression fills the parked car.

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9th May 2013 – windscreen

Posted on May 10, 2013 by Liz Terry

The raindrops come, first small and slow, then bigger and faster. Gradually, the screen fills up with spots. Cocooned inside the car, this meeting of wild nature and man-made machine fascinates me, as drops begin to join together and run … Continue reading →

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5th April 2013 – taxi driver

Posted on April 6, 2013 by Liz Terry

He doesn’t see me until I’m right beside his window. He greets me cheerfully, ushering me into the passenger seat with a wave. Apologising for his inattention, he points out a circling buzzard, high above us, against the blue sky. … Continue reading →

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27th February 2013 – mechanic

Posted on February 28, 2013 by Liz Terry

A wooden door opens and a smiling face emerges. Tousled hair and dirty overalls. No sharp sucking in of breath is the first good sign, the second is his tiny quote. Happily, we leave our car in his oil-blackened hands.

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