Red 57 Chevy

The scorching sun beats down on all that it touches. It shows itself on faded paints, and tired, leathery faces. It is reflected in each drip of sweat I feel run down my back. I round the corner and come face to face with a radiant beauty. She is a ‘57 Chevy Bel Air, a vision in red. The oppressive sun only makes her shine brighter. She is a dream, not lost to time but rather transported through it. Preserved in all her glory. A majestic goddess bathing in the light. For a moment I don’t feel the heat and all time has faded away. There is only her, and I bask in her splendor.

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