11/02/2023
I miss the days when I was a younger man, driving my white Mustang across the country. I felt free and alive, with the wind in my hair and the music in my ears. I loved that car, it was my pride and joy.
I remember one time, I picked up a hitchhiker on the way to California. She was a beautiful blonde with blue eyes and a smile that could melt ice. We hit it off right away, and she told me her name was Lucy. She said she was running away from her abusive boyfriend, and she wanted to start a new life in LA. I felt sorry for her, and I wanted to help her.
We drove for hours, talking and laughing. She said I was the nicest person she ever met, and she kissed me on the cheek. I felt a spark, and I wondered if this was fate. Maybe we were meant to meet, maybe we were meant to be together.
We stopped at a motel for the night, and we got a room with a double bed. We decided to share it, since we were both tired and cold. We cuddled under the covers, and she whispered in my ear that she liked me a lot. She asked me if I wanted to make love to her. I said yes, and we kissed passionately.
That night was the best night of my life. We made love like there was no tomorrow, and we fell asleep in each other’s arms. I felt happy and complete, like I had found my soulmate.
The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. Lucy was gone, and so was my car. She had taken everything: my keys, my wallet, my clothes, even my shoes. She had left me a note on the pillow, saying:
“Sorry, honey. Thanks for the ride and the fun. You were sweet, but I need more than that. Don’t take it personally, it’s nothing against you. It’s just how I am. Good luck with your life.”
