I’m not a car person. Ask me what sort of a car I own, and I’ll tell you it’s a black one. (It’s a Ford something or other, if you must know). I haven’t memorised the registration number. I don’t clean it that often, either inside or out. And when I do clean it, I have to remove cobwebs and lines of moss growing around the windows.
You might think this is disgusting, but I don’t care. Not in a rebellious way; I’m simply indifferent. I don’t enjoy driving and I avoid it as much as possible.
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