Sammy
I basked in the glow of my new car. She was a gem--a little red MGB--my last extravagance before settling down as a responsible adult.
We drove through one of those fragile fall days which held a painful clarity. The breeze blew cool and the sun shone warm. People moved on the sidewalks with a conscious briskness as if such a day could not possibly last and, if they stopped to enjoy it, it would turn to cold and rain. This day belonged to the adults of the city since the children were safely ensconced in school.
The MGB wove in and out of traffic passing secretaries and businessmen, storekeepers and shoppers. They formed a spectacle not as colourful as the dance of the falling leaves, but more purposeful.