6.15

Prompt: Write a story that involves a lucky or recurring number.
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“Your total comes to six fifteen, Mister Barry,” the girl behind the cashier said with a cheery smile.

“Thanks, Millie.”

In the small town of Salem, where everyone knew each other on a first name basis, Barry was clearly the most popular of them all. His Chevy was the oldest and loudest thing to drive down the streets, and as he leaned down to polish its license plates – ML615K – he smiled ruefully at those who said it ought to be junked. How could they possibly understand the sentimental value of the car?

He had courted his wife, Barbara, with it – she was only fifteen on that June afternoon, when he had first laid eyes on her. And for six months, their romance had been the talk of curious townsfolk. They got married in a small church, with only fifteen guests in attendance. After all, many had thought he was too old for her. Goodness, he was only six years her senior!

Unfortunately, things had gone downhill from there. Barbara complained that he spent too much time with the car and never with her. In fact, she was sure he was in love with the Chevy.

Spend too much time with the car, he thought with a loud snort. What does she know about anything?

He wound up the windows, closing his eyes while inhaling the fresh scent of polish and wax. Ah, this was heaven. It had cost him only $615 – an effort from countless hours spent on his hands and knees at Griffith's Auto Shop. How could Barbara possibly understand?

In his ecstasy, he failed to notice the small cloud of gray smoke that rose like a silent ghost, slowly filling the confines of the car. He would be found much later with a goofy smile on his face - the clock on the dashboard forever frozen at 6.15.


Word Count: 300