Ten Tickets

I thought it would never happen again.


I leave my house with door locked behind me, and I walk.
The air is cold, sweeping away any warmpth it finds.
The summer season has left me and I walk.

Alone on the cold streets I venture to a place I though I'd never go again.
With the directions of stranger I came upon it.

It was a small brick building. One that marked the begining of a long, cold winter.
"I'll take the ten tickets, please" I decided.

And that was it.

The result of a manditory safty inspection of a cirten 1987 Chevrolet Camaro has undone summer and released winter upon me as I face the bitter cold and decreesed mobility of city transit.

Let untold adventure begin, old friend.