Friday Fictioneers – Old Beryl


Photo Courtesy: Al Forbes


Old Beryl

Word count:  100

Mr. Briggs loved the old girl but now it was time to let her go.  He’d polished her fenders with care, attached the poppy just so and spit-licked the spotlight shiny.

Later, he watched from the other side of the barrier as she passed by, tears brimming, and saluted with one briny hand. Mr. Briggs lingered long after the crowds had dispersed, staring down the road with droopy, rheumy eyes.

He tugged a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose loudly before turning away.  Perhaps he’d stop at the newsagent and pick up some chicken noodle soup for dinner.


15 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers – Old Beryl

  1. I’m not a man, but I cried a bit when my first little old car had to go the way all cars must go. Some things are full of character. Lovely, sad story, a beautifully painted picture.

  2. Our kids cried when we traded off the Isuzu Trooper. We’d had it for over 10 years and they practically grew up in that vehicle. It’s funny how we develop an emotional attachment to things like cars, boats, and motorcycles. Great story.

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