Starting somewhere here

The first, last, and only good-looking car I ever had was a college graduation present. A shiny white classic corvette. A ragtop. John gave it to me. That very day, we packed up a few things and drove to Los Padres National Forest. I didn't quit my job; not officially. Not formally. We found an open, alone place and pitched a tent. For a week, maybe two, we hiked, swam, and at night burnt some pancakes and black coffee on a Coleman stove. My dog Bru liked to sleep on the floor of the vette, in front of the driver’s seat. Whenever he shifted around, the brake lights would shine on the pines. Red, dark, red, dark. All night long. If you think life gets better than that, you’re wrong.

(To be continued)