“Ha-ha! I knew you could do it!” Her new baby may be wizened, but she was a tough old crone. She should really give her a name – she deserved a name. She could call her Violet – it was her middle name and what her mum had wanted to call her at birth, but her dad had objected, saying she’d be picked on at school because of the colour of her eyes, so they had settled for Violet being her middle name. Pulling the gear stick to neutral, she switched off the engine. “No,” she said aloud to herself, “I can’t call you Violet. That’s a stupid name for a hunk of metal, no matter how awesome you are.” The breeze picked up briefly as it wafted through her open window, Aunt Gladys’ wretched perfume hinted on it once more.What the… She scanned her surroundings for the second time that day. Nothing. What was going on? She sniffed at the air and could no longer detect what had clearly been there a second ago. Maybe everything was starting to get to her; all these new senses and feelings, and heightening lust.
