Flash Lit 9: Young Love

What do you love enough to steal?

For me, when I was about to turn two, it was a red firetruck.  My neighbor had one.  It shone red.  It had a bell to clang.  The pedal mechanism was a rod bent the way that the rods are on carousels, the ones that make the horses go up and down, which seemed both economical and pleasing.  Perhaps the power of the firetruck engine was measured in carousel horse power.

I would like to say I remember my perfect crime, but I don’t.  As my mother tells it, I just pedaled off home with it.  I clearly felt that we were a match made in heaven.  When it was gently pointed out to me that it was not MY firetruck and had to give it back, I threw an epic tantrum.

I got my own for my birthday and from that point on, true love ran smoothly.