29.365: Old Cars and Lost Dreams

My backyard isn’t all secret faerie gardens. Some of it is junk left in rusty piles by the previous owners. When I’m walking around, I try to imagine what the heck these people were thinking. What were they going to do with that bakery case? Why exactly do we need a toll booth and a toxic waste barrel? Are they related in any way?

And then there are the old cars. I can imagine some old guy sitting around planning on restoring this hunk of twisted metal to it’s former glory. Then he’d go cruising down Main Street with his gray hair blowing in the wind.

Or maybe he just needed a convenient place to dump this thing. *Shrugs*

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