[Roxy] a new night....the same girl....and coming home
She quietly stares at the car in front of her, covered by a storage tarp.
One hand absently strokes the head of a the large rottie at her side, the other silently lights a cigarette.
"There is no such thing as friendship among our kind, Rox. Not even mine."
His voice echoes in her mind, purring through her memories, through laughter and tears. Through races won and lost and it always comes back, very quietly to the lessons he taught her.
The hiatus she took was needed. She needed to get her head together. She needed to figure things out. She was falling. Falling and failing and breaking apart. But she fell. She dropped to the bottom and lay there, broken and scared and suffering.
There is no such thing as Friendship.
A flick of her wrist uncovers the jet black, mod'd out Shelby. Designed especially for her. Everything she wants, loves, and needs in a car. Made with heart and soul and friendship now gone. Probly dead.
She opens up the driver's side and lets the Rottie hop in. She clicks a button on her cell phone and makes a call. "I'd like to leave a message with Alder Savage, important but not urgent. Thank you.....let her know Roxanne O'Conner called, and would like a moment of her time."
She clicks the phone shut and the engine roars to life, purring like a well fed lion.
Time to go Home.
One hand absently strokes the head of a the large rottie at her side, the other silently lights a cigarette.
"There is no such thing as friendship among our kind, Rox. Not even mine."
His voice echoes in her mind, purring through her memories, through laughter and tears. Through races won and lost and it always comes back, very quietly to the lessons he taught her.
The hiatus she took was needed. She needed to get her head together. She needed to figure things out. She was falling. Falling and failing and breaking apart. But she fell. She dropped to the bottom and lay there, broken and scared and suffering.
There is no such thing as Friendship.
A flick of her wrist uncovers the jet black, mod'd out Shelby. Designed especially for her. Everything she wants, loves, and needs in a car. Made with heart and soul and friendship now gone. Probly dead.
She opens up the driver's side and lets the Rottie hop in. She clicks a button on her cell phone and makes a call. "I'd like to leave a message with Alder Savage, important but not urgent. Thank you.....let her know Roxanne O'Conner called, and would like a moment of her time."
She clicks the phone shut and the engine roars to life, purring like a well fed lion.
Time to go Home.