I believe it was in the mid or early seventies, back when I was still painted blue and owned by the Davidson’s family. I was still young at the time, despite my own body being older than me, which was strange, and ignorant of the world. I was told about rogue vehicles from a friend my owner knew. He said that they were cowards that didn’t want to conform to society, and wanted to rebel at every given choice. Naturally, I knew none the wiser and believed in the mindset.

It was when I was taking a beautiful drive through the countryside to let my axles catch a bit of exercise. I was approaching the Moratyne Bridge, which is a tall one which runs over the River Karridge. I was coming up to it, when I saw a vehicle parked up on the bridge, peeking over the edge. Naturally, I was curious about what it was doing and stopped to look at its strange activity. The vehicle itself was a ’64 Pontiac Bonneville, and it looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages.

But the weirdest thing that I felt, despite not knowing this liver, was that I knew something was wrong. The way it moved, the way it gestured its body. It felt off, even to someone as young as me at the time.
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Illustration and text extract from Chillwind story 'Happy Campers', which can be read by following this link: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/33773818/
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