My first car as an olive green colour with beige interior. The back seat had a mysterious sticky patch. It never quite went away. The radio only worked if you tapped it in exactly the right spot. It was there for Sunday drives. It got me to work and took me on nights out. It even managed an emergency dash to A&E when my brother fell out of that tree.
I was 18 when I passed my test on the first try. My then boyfriend and his dad chose the car for me. They went for an old car with a good engine. Can't argue with that - but boy did I HATE that colour.
Third gear was always a little tricky. It was very different from the car I had learned to drive in. I struggled to get it into third gear for the first few weeks. My boyfriend took me out to practice. He screamed at me when I didn't hit the brakes fast enough. We were approaching the stop line at the time.
Today's Memoir Prompt: Describe your first car or your family's car from when you were young. What journeys did it witness?
The family car often plays a starring role in the backdrop of childhood memories. Think about the vehicle your family had when you were growing up. Was it a boxy estate, a practical saloon, or an old van? Describe its colour, the feel of the seats, and even the distinct smell that greeted you when you climbed in.
Consider what this car symbolises for you now. Does it represent freedom, togetherness, or perhaps a longing for simpler times? Explore how its presence shaped your experiences growing up. Let your words take readers on a journey through its four-wheeled history.
