It has the bones of a ghost story, clothed in the tatters of a more conventional story of malaise, retrospection, and family collapse.

Wow. My car finally died.
It's been a long time coming. My car has been slowly just falling apart since last year. Over the years it's done me well. Although credited with building the most famous Japanese fighter plane, The Zero, Mitsubishi had dealt with so much througout history. Coal mining, real estate, banking and insurance helped shape modern Japan. Their delve into building cars in the early 20th century turned them into even a more dominant force and Mitsubishi (three waterchestnut) became one of the biggest finacial forces in history.

Today while driving down I-35 South, heading my way to Lewisville, my car began to smoke, large gray wafts from the tailpipe and the engine. It was gone. Only after feeling anxious and blabbering like an idiot on the phone to Jane, the police and firemen blocked off the road, and checked my oil. There were three of them, and one of them was the Fire Captain.

I feel liberated. I don't have to worry about driving, at least not for a while. The car deserved to go, and now it'll be salvaged for scrap. Shooting the horse with the broken leg. That's what it feels like.