I’m in space now, looking down on the world destroyed, burned out. I can’t help but think back to the cars I loved so much. It makes me feel horrible to think how I took them for granted. What were the cars that I sneered at and scorned for no good reason?
High on that list would be those Porsches that rich old guys always drove around, buzzing along never too fast. Targas especially seemed like they were only built for low-speed cruising, for showing off, for posing. I hated that.
But now I’m up here, slowly cruising myself on to some distant planet and the lift-off targa roof sounds like the perfect thing for a Porsche. Twisting roads just ask for some wind in your hair. I wish I had my hands on that leather-lined wheel. I wish I was bending through corners. I missed my chance; now a low weight, rear-drive sports car with handling and speed sounds perfect.