Blue Moon Taxi (My First Attempt at Flash Fiction)

As I mentioned in my Reflections post, Delores at The Feathered Nest, has come up with an idea for a challenge involving photo prompts.  This photo (posted by Delores) was one of the choices for this week's prompt.  I chose to try my hand at flash fiction.

There seems to be some debate as to just exactly what is considered flash fiction; the definition seems to range from anywhere to 50 words to under a 1,000 words.  This has just over 240 words, so I think I'm within the limits.

Photo by The Feathered Nest

Blue Moon Taxi

The old man leaned heavily against the young woman walking next to him.  There was a time when he had carried her around on his shoulders, but he knew without her support now he’d never make it across the junkyard.  He didn’t know how she’d managed it, but she’d tracked the car down.  So here they were, slowly making their way across the junkyard for one last look.

He spotted it before she did; it looked better than he’d dared to hope. It was beginning to rust, but Blue Moon Taxi was still visible on the side.  He stopped a few feet from the car as a flood of memories came rushing in on him. 

They resumed their walk and slowly covered the last few feet to the car.  He gingerly climbed behind the wheel; his granddaughter hopped into the backseat and leaned forward to listen to his story. 

He spoke of how he’d driven a taxi for many years, and how one fare had changed his life.  He’d stopped to pick up a young woman.  They struck up a conversation; she was spunky and blunt, and he loved her almost from the moment he saw her.  She was the woman he would marry and spend the next 60 years of his life with. 

She was gone now, and he knew he wouldn’t be far behind her, but he wanted just one last look at the taxi where it all began.