Beginning to a new idea, Bradley's car
Tell me what you think, what you'd like to see later on. I'm open to almost anything :)
The air inside the cabin was cool, the A/C unit gently breathing the oxygen through to Brad's expressionless face. Black fur on his head felt cold, ruffled about by the quiet fans. Left elbow propped up on the windowsill, he calmly steered the vehicle with gentle, precise adjustments of his wrist. The other hand lay on the center console, fingers stretched out in straight lines. Darkened windows eased the road glare from his headlights, a silent mist settling down over everything he drove past. Windshield wipers sliced through the accumulating water intermittently, tires churning up a white froth that hung lazily behind him before coming to rest on the glossy surface of the asphalt. Black leather enveloped him, the steering wheel wrapped carefully in soft, supple cloth that felt like liquid gold beneath his paw. Bucket seats hugged his back, radio speakers quietly playing a tune from back in the sixties just loud enough to lay the sound of the tires to sleep. Darkness swirled over the car as it scythed through its oppressive calmness, the engine happily growling, one tap of Brad's toe capable of unleashing a hellish roar upon the land. The car was his baby, a bright yellow Chevrolet Camaro from the year 1986. White lines screamed past the metal of the door, exhaust fumes banishing them from the prying eyes of Brad's mirrors. Lights appeared on the horizon, a faint white smudge over the tips of the trees. His muscle car carried Brad ever closer, neon signs taking shape, letters covering their surface. A signal turned on, and the car began to slow as it cruised down the off-ramp towards the gas station. Sparkling water glossed over every building and window of the small town, hushing all of the normal morning sounds into a complete silence, serenity dripping from every crevasse. Brad stopped the vehicle by the gas pumps, killing the engine before stepping out of the vehicle. The sound created by his shutting the door echoed all around him like a gunshot in a recording studio. Brad nearly jumped himself! Somehow, what had seemed like peace from inside the car had transformed into some sort of twisted eeriness. He was only seventeen years of age, and with nobody around his heart jolted. 'Stay calm, you moron. Nobody's going to attack you or anything like that,' He almost laughed at himself, shaking his head and turning to the gas pump nozzle. Starting it to fill, he sat down on the hood of the car which was warm from the eight angry cylinders. There was a loud clang of metal and the pump stopped. Brad returned it to its hook, walking towards the Circle K store at the other side to pay. There was nobody at the counter so he slowly waltzed to the bank of humming refrigerators. He grabbed a Dr. Pepper, walking up to the counter past the rack of trac phones. There was a small brass bell, so he rang it two times, the store falling quiet immediately after. "Hello?" He called, his voice thin and wavy.
"Yes, sugar," Somebody said behind him, Brad whipping around from fear, nearly knocking over the display of chewing tobacco in the process. The woman gave him the stink eye, one eyebrow raised above the other in a questioning look. Her equine features were oddly charming, Brad's fur standing on end still.
"Sorry, it's-" He began as the horse walked behind the counter with the soft clip clop of hooves.
"Quiet? I know. It's like this every day at twelve in the morning. What is somebody as young as you doing out at this time of night?" She asked, hands on her curvaceous hips.
"Well, you're not so young yourself, Ma'am. But I was just going for a drive early in the morning,"
"That so?" She said, leaning over the counter to look out the door. "Quit looking at my boobs," How had she known what he was doing when she leaned over? Bradley shook it out of mind when she started talking again. "That's a nice car. Don't see many cars from the eighties for some reason,"
"People tend not to like them so much. They don't look fast, but that IROC can outrun almost everything out there," Brad said, smiling at the horse cashier.
"Well, that will run you about seventy big ones,"
"Sure thing," Bradley responded, handing over a fifty and a twenty before turning to leave.
"What's your name" She said, leaning past the tall display to look at him from behind the cash register.
"Bradley,"
"I'm Amanda. You should stop by again sometime, it gets lonely running the graveyard shift every day," Amanda spoke, waving at him happily as he nodded, opening the door with his back. His car seemed to look at him, witness to the dorky smirk on his face. He'd never attracted any manner of girl to him before, and it sure felt good! The engine barked to life, Brad carefully pulling the machine out of the parking lot and onto the highway into the opposite direction he'd started in. He'd be back, that's for sure.