[broadcast mind] 'cause you see I'm on losing streak
[It's the sunlight that calls up his memories. That bright yellow, it reminds Elfangor of so many things. The gold mixed with the red in the sky above the Andalite homeworld. The shining hue of Loren's hair that he could swear, in some abstract way, was the color of her laughter. The color of that car that he drove across the barren landscape of the Taxxon homeworld, wheels screaming, kicking sand and sediment up in his wake.
It is the last memory that takes shape. Only it isn't that particular Mustang--it's an identical one, one that he purchased when he became human, when he lived on Earth.
It is an afternoon that forms in his mind's eye. Oh, it could have been any afternoon, but he remembers that one in particular. He'd taken off from work early. No particular reason. But he'd finished early, and so he just jumped into his car, and tore off.
And, oh, it was glorious, to feel the sun warm on his skin, to feel the wind whipping through his hair, to take in the California air. To have The Rolling Stones blasting through the stereo and sing along, laughing just because he could. It wasn't anything like the Andalite homeworld... but it didn't have to be, for him to feel like he could belong here.]
[As the memory fragments away, as his awareness rises out of the memory much as one might from a dream, he realizes what must have happened once again. But this time, all he can muster is a sigh, and a few mumbled words.]
Damn, I miss my car.