Time stands still, or so we think.
The marching of time is only slowed by the memories we make.
What memories and which cars have touched your life?
I’ll tell you about one…
“Our noses were glued to the bus window. Hot breath, that smelled like eggs, bacon, Cheerios, oatmeal, or any other thing one of the twenty of us might have had for breakfast, clouded our view like a fog. Tim wrote his name in it. I tried to scramble over those stinky boys to get a clear view of our new teacher’s car. Miss Brown had come to Sunnyside in March from college and we loved her. Substitutes are fine, but she was our “real” teacher. She was young, pretty and fun. All a kid could want in a teacher right?”