The Old Blue Truck

It’s bad enough she painted these eyes on my head lamps. Now what is she trying to do, a root canal? I never thought retirement would be like this. Plunked down behind an old garage with assorted shrubbery growing up through my frame. I know I shouldn’t feel too sorry for myself. At least I still have some color, four tires, fenders and a running board. If only I could tell her about all the work I did in my younger years. I was a hard working truck and hauled many a heavy load for my last owner, the farmer, Mr. Thomas. I brought his wife and baby son home from the hospital. I took his son to the bus when he enlisted in the Army. He never came back from that war. I even carried Mr. Thomas to his final resting place over at the town cemetery. I guess this is better than being buried and forgotten. Maybe I can still be useful after all.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is hosted by Joy of Beautiful Words. Image by

33 thoughts on “The Old Blue Truck

  1. Priceless Joy

    LOL! I hadn’t noticed those eyes. 😀 😀 Wonderful story! It never occurred to me to consider what a car/truck has done in its lifetime! This afternoon, I will be trying to think what all my dear old car has done for me. 😀 😀 Haha! Love it!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. milliethom

    I loved this look into the old truck’s thoughts. He / it’s certainly had a colourful past. Lovely detail about all the useful things he’s done – and the quip about the root canal was hilarious. 🙂




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