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.