12) Alec Dupont

A day in the life of my car is an uneventful one. It is a long and tired life, that of a car, it is the simple mechanical beast of burden. I has the most boring eight to four job in the world, it sits still waiting for my return. I am the boss of this unfortunate machine, it does my bidding, on my schedule, my terms. It waits on me, as I ask it to fly over paved dirt to my boring life. Every weekday it wakes at seven. It is early, and quite often cold. It start it up, sputtering on occasion, yet always starting true, always driving true. I trust the thing with my life. Its combustion engine, fine tuned with oil, parts replaced and pieces worn down, still fires each stroke with powerful inefficiency. With only fifteen miles per gallon it is a hungry beast. Yet it is my beast, it is my lifeline to independence. without it I must be ferried around by others. So despite its age and wear I love my car.