FFfAW– The Car with Painted Eyes


The car sat by the old green shed, bright a blue as ever: the blue of eggshells and spring skies. Those white eyes stared at me from the headlamps as I approached.

“You don’t know, do you?” I asked, laying a hand upon the bonnet. “Nobody told you.”

It was a silly thing to say. I was talking to a car: a heap of old metal. But he’d loved the car, so somehow it just seemed right.

“He died last night,” I said. The metal seemed to grow cold under my fingers. “I suppose you knew it was coming. He came out to you less and less.”

I stood there, spilling my soul to an old car with painted-on eyes, and even though it was absurd, it made me feel a lot better.

When I walked away, it seemed as if those painted eyes were full of grief as mine.

Word Count: 150

This is my entry for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The photo prompt is provided by pixabay.com. Thanks as always to Priceless Joy for running the challenge.


13 thoughts on “FFfAW– The Car with Painted Eyes

Add yours

  1. I like the way you show the emotions of both the narrator and the car in your story. News of the car’s owner/driver’s death definitely hits the car hard, and the grief in the eyes/headlamps was a really nice touch. Pouring out his sorrows, even if only to the car, is therapeutic in this this man’s case. A lovely, sad little story.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ah, I love this piece! I can see how it would have been comforting to pour out to the car, which would have been equally attached to the dead person. Nice detail with the painted eyes.

    Liked by 1 person

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