Jeep

We bought the red Jeep when we started our life together at the beach. He left for another life, but I stayed and kept it. Collisions and spilled paint mar its exterior. The inside smells of mold, the ceiling falling down, a single speaker works. These issues mean no one rides with me; the Jeep is like my own private treehouse. My new man wants to replace it with something shiny and better mileage that we will share. Our time together is dwindling; I roll down the windows and cruise in my kingdom on wheels until then.