11:29p

There was a white chrysler in front of me. On its right butt cheek, there used to be a Christian fish. (Ichthys, yes?) What's remaining is like a scorch mark. A dark outline. It used to be, and now? Did someone swipe it? Did it fall? Did some prankster affix it to honk off their righteous, atheist Chrysler buddy? Muslim? Jewish? Jainist? Did the owner remove it? Which possibility appeals to you? You. I like them all. Think of the film, 'Clue', and the alternate culprits. Each entertain.

This is why the fantasy car in my mind is dark. Except for the pearl grey Jaguar Roadster. Dark to hide the fact that I don't often clean my vehicles, but also to engulf such a stain as this Ichthys. Because whatever the origin, it is no longer, and that starts a conversation. (Who needs that.) Knowing drivers these days, someone could get out at a red light, come up and ask you. If I were any kind of honorable black hat, I would grasp the ledge of the driver's side window, L-O-V-E & H-A-T-E on my knuckles, and speak like a well-oiled mahogany. I would canter and paraphrase some smokescreen of bourgeois clichés, and then hit them with the eye. Where has your fish run? What do you think of that.