Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2279601-The-Tire
by Jacky
Rated: E · Fiction · Contest Entry · #2279601
Flash Fiction
The Tire

“My husband can’t drive until his foot’s healed, he’s usually the driver. I drive, I’d just rather not.

We had a slow leak in a tire. A light came on the dashboard. I made an appointment to get it fixed, but tomorrow was the earliest they could get it in. Of course there were things we had to do today, that needed a car.

Fortunately John had this little electric pumper machine. It checked the tire, told you how much air it had, and you set it, to fill to what you were supposed to have. Then you could drive places safely. We had to keep doing it though, between trips. It wasn’t that slow of a leak.

The machine was confusing. Probably because I never actually read the directions, and don’t know anything about cars except how to drive them. My husband showed me how to use the machine by filling the tire the first time. The next trip, he came out and had me do it myself, but talked me through it.”

Well, this time I tried to do it myself. I couldn’t get it to work right so I got the instructions and the first one was set the machine on a flat surface. But I had parked next to the grass, so I had to move the car. I was already upset, I didn’t want to admit I was screwing up, but now I had to move the car too, and still didn’t know what I was doing.”

“And then what happened?”

“I moved the car.”


“And I ran over the little machine... and ripped a big hole in the tire.”

“So, where am I towing it again?” the driver asked, bored.

I could hear John laughing. I didn’t think it was all that funny.
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