A Mind Of Its Own - Short

A Mind Of Its Own

Dennis Butterman stumbled through the industrial district, his wet, muddy shoes squelching as they pounded the dusty concrete. He looked at his map, confused as to where the building he was looking for was. Everything around him seemed to have closed a long time ago. Block after block of abandoned warehouses, factories and workshops passed him by as he counted off the roads. Finally, as the little energy he had left was deserting him, he saw the dirty, faintly flickering sign he was looking for, "Olde World Mechanics", hanging limply off the side of the small building. With a sigh of relief passing his parched lips, Dennis hurried forwards. As he got closer his heart sank. The workshop didn't really look like it was in much more use than the decayed buildings around it, the large entrance shutters were closed and no sound came from behind them. He banged his fists against the shutters, the noise quite loud against the eerie quiet of the abandoned buildings.

"Hello, anybody home" he shouted in desperation, still knocking on the shutters. No answer was forthcoming, and the doors remained shut. Dennis tried to pull on the shutters, but they were buckled and stuck fast. He kicked them, and became even more desperate as the pain from his toe travelled up his body. He gave up and sat at the roadside in front of the workshop, placed his head in his hands and began sobbing.In between the noise of his own sniffles, Dennis heard the sound of scraping metal. He lifted his head from his hands, his mood brightening at perhaps the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He turned, and standing in between the open shutters was an oily old man, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. "Ah good day fine sir, what can we do for you today?"

"It's my automobile, it's been acting up something awful!" exclaimed Dennis, wiping his eyes with his sleeve before shoving a photoprint in front of the mechanics nose.

"A fine specimen sir, if I do say so myself! A '98 Belarno with Advanced Intelligence pack. Don't see many of them round these parts! What seems to be the problem?"

"It's misbehaving, damn thing has a mind of it's own!"

"Indeed sir, don't they all. Is it the brakes, not stopping fast enough? Or perhaps the handling isn't up to your expectation?"

"Well yes, both those, but more"

"Oh dear, the electrics playing up?"

"Yes! But more than that!"

"The engine? They cost a pretty penny to repair these days!"

"That too, but there's something else, more serious than all these things!"

"More serious? Well, the body looks in fine condition sir, it doesn't look damaged at all?"

"It's not the body, I wash it every day but it doesn't help!"

"Doesn't help? Doesn't help what sir?"

"The fact my car simply does not like me!"

"Oh, we all feel like that some days sir. My own Isabella, that's the name I gave her after my dear old mum, just last week I could have swore she was letting her power drain on purpose! I'd put a new cell in there, go and make myself a cup of tea then poof! Dead as a parrot! Four times I changed that cell before she started behaving again!"