Joy Ride

But there was a night in the spring that a 1976 Gran Torino pulled into my front yard when the world was ours. Ours and mine. And we went for a joy ride.

I would wager that the rest of the world doesn’t know it yet, but I learned how to love that night. Or perhaps I merely remembered.

Suddenly I was a little girl again. In the back on the bench seat with the wind whipping through my hair. The open road, the night sky. The roar of a mean engine. And a giggling Red there beside me.

And what could I do but revel in El’s joy? In Red’s joy? In my own joy...