Amanda Brookfield

I have fallen in love.  With a car.  This is not something I would have expected of myself, not just because I am an unabashed, problematical, die-hard Romantic, in the most conventional 'human' sense, but because I don't like machines.  So I have been trying to analyse the reasons why:

1. Apart from a £400 beaten-up old black Ford Something (containing a supersonic engine that someone had inserted for a laugh) which I bought with my Life Savings aged 18, and which lasted for a princely 5 months before being towed off for scrap (mistakenly, but then I thought, yeah, good idea), this new Love of my Life is the FIRST CAR I HAVE EVER PURCHASED ENTIRELY ON MY OWN.

   Conclusion: A late-bloom exultation in the power to choose.

2. My new love is very beautiful - shiny sleek charcoal with a silver trim.  It doesn't have many miles on the clock and is only ONE AND A HALF YEARS OLD!    (All previous (jointly) purchased cars have bee... ... uite old.)       Conclusion: A shallow falling-fall-for-appearances.
3. The boot opens if you press and hold a button on the car key.  Pressing another button closes it.  I am very keen on this function.  Indeed, I LOVE this function.  Maybe because I have a bad back (as most writers do).  Maybe because the boot of my previous car required what I shall call wrestling. Conclusion: Not seeing the wood for the trees.  Being 'blinded' by the trees, one might say.
4. This car works!!!!!!!!! For decades (ask any friends) previous aforementioned (quite old) cars often... idn't work - breakdowns, seizures, bits falling off, I could write a novel entitled 'Car Disasters'.  The real sadness of the tale being that even the smoothly functioning periods were never enjoyable because I knew they wouldn't last.  Because, in other words, I had no faith in the vehicles. Conclusion: I love this car because I have faith in it.

In summary then: Surprise. Exultation. Physical attraction. Blindness.  Faith.

I told you it was Love.