the Blueberry

i pull into the parking lot, a bronze B&W before me, a yellow mustang with black racing stripes behind me. my '02 blue mazda protege 5 is sheepish between these two money-stacks and i wince when it squeals against the cold and hurls me against the roof when we go over the speed bump as if it had no shocks at all. we each settle into a space between white lines and i wait for a few minutes, fiddling with my keys and slowly taking the last few sips of coffee while i watch my students rise from their vehicles like titans from chariots. i sit quietly and reflect. i pat my dusty dashboard and alight cheerfully onto the curb.