I went into my garage today to look for a can of paint. I hadn't been in there for a while... to full of emptiness and brimmed with memories of my past. It is empty of racing stuff but full of other bits I am keeper of. I caught sight of my tools, neatly arranged, the photos of my racing past, the trophies full of dust that still managed to gleam in the weak evening light.
The lovely smell of old oil was overpowering and took me far away, back to a time when my fingernails were always black and I had a grin on my face a bit more often. When I felt that the smell of castorene was the best perfume ever and the high pitched wail of gearboxes made me feel so very happy...
Everything is there, waiting for me to come back... sometime, and I will feel light again, light and free. I close the garage and my soul weeps... life has indeed been cruel to me, but my time will come again...
No comments:
Post a Comment