It seemed that it was a Sunday afternoon. Usually I would spend Sundays with Carolina, but apparently we had had an argument, and I had decided to take off in my car without her. I drove around in the country for a while until I realized I had come to another county. I thought I must be in a county which was contiguous to my home county, Tarrant county, Texas, and I tried to figure out exactly which county I was in. As I pulled into the small town – which was clearly the county seat – I began looking at the signs on the buildings, thinking one of them would have the name of the town. Finally I saw one sign which had the word "Cannon" in it, and I recalled that there was a nearby county named Cannon; that must be where I was.

I also recalled that I had been to this town once before, and that the town sat on a hill. All the streets, made of red brick, wound up the sides of the hill past the quaint shops and houses. I recalled that this town had one defining piece of architecture, and as I looked up the hill toward the top I could see it: a tall stone tower like something out of medieval Europe. The tower was round and had a parapet at the top. The tower stood on a cliff and from the top one could see one of the most marvelous views imaginable of west Texas. I intended to head up to the tower and just stay there for a while, taking in the view. I only wished Carolina were with me. I always enjoyed things like this so much more when she was along.

I was driving the brown Lincoln Continental which my father had recently given me. The more I drove this car the less I liked it and I wished I had never taken it. I wished I had my BMW back. Now as I headed up the steep brick street toward the top of the hill, the car died on me. I had to get out and start pushing it along. Finally it started running again and I got back inside. But as I continued up the hill, it seemed more as if I were now on a motorcycle than in a car. When I saw a police car sitting nearby, I realized I was sitting on my seat belt instead of wearing it. I thought even though I was on a motorcycle, there was still a law which required that seat belts be worn. But I quickly pulled out of sight of the police car and I forgot about the seat belt.

Hundreds of people were in the street and it was soon clear that some kind of festival was taking place. I was soon out walking among the crowd, interested in what was going on. I walked into one long tent where people were sitting around at various tables, and I sat down near some men who were talking. It seemed they were discussing some project dealing with cars. I soon became bored, stood up and walked around the tent. There were some little stands where people could sign cards and put them in a box and win $3 worth of gas. I certainly didn't want to do that. First the prize was ridiculously small and second I didn't want my mailbox filled with more junk mail after these people got my name and address.

As I walked on out of the tent, I now began to see what this fair was about: cars. Sitting on a grassy lot in front of me were dozens of classic cars. Right in front of me was one which especially caught my attention: a pale-blue and white Corvette. It was obviously one of the earliest models of Corvette and was in excellent condition. I wondered if these cars were for sale, and if so, how much the Corvette would be. It occurred to me that I needed a new car, and I thought if I were going to buy one, I would prefer to invest my money in a classic instead of a new car. And I especially liked Corvettes. I had never owned a Corvette but had always thought they were one of the finest cars on the road. This might be my chance to buy one.

I walked around to the other side of the car and finally saw a price tag in the window. I was astonished to see that it was only four thousand and some dollars. If that was the case, I might buy it right now. But then I saw my mistake. I was looking at another car of the same color which was parked next to the corvette. This car was also a classic, but it looked more like large golf cart. I again went back to the Corvette, somewhat disappointed, and continued to look for the price tag. Now I realized if the other car was over four thousand dollars, the Corvette must be quite expensive. But I couldn't find the price on it anywhere.

I turned and looked around me. I saw many other classic cars, including some especially nice-looking white Chevys and Fords from the mid 1950s. I thought even one of those would be better to buy than a new car. I walked over to get a better look at them. As I did so, I noticed that there seemed to be a larger car lot right next to where we were. It looked as if the show had purposely been set up next to the car lot so that people interested in a car might venture into the car lot to look at the cars there. All the cars in the car lot looked as if they were just ordinary used cars. I didn't think I would be interested in one of those. I didn't want just an ordinary car, I anted a classic car. But I might walk over to the car lot and just have a look anyway.

Dream Epics Home Page

Copyright 2001 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com