The Car

Our car is rather impressive – not in the shiny black Jaguar way, but in exactly how close to not working it is. For one thing, the plastic panel on the door that is meant to be there is somewhere along the motorway and was lost so long ago it has probably bio-degraded by now. We actually had to glue the exhaust pipe back on (well, the guy in the garage did because the strongest glue I’ve got is a three year old pritt-stick) and also the air-bags don’t work. Well, they might do, but the light that says they don’t is almost constantly on, despite the best efforts of my mother, who spent an hour with her head in the bonnet and emerged looking like it had exploded several times with her next to it. It remains un-hoovered inside and with a strange manure-like smell wafting out from the back where my mum often takes the vast quantities of horse poo down to the allotment in a vain attempt to grow something of value. Other than that, it functions just fine. Hm.


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