Driving is a drug - Toyota Carina, 1.8 liter, 1989

First day without Karina. More precisely, the first working day, when you really need to go somewhere.
Left the house in the morning. It was a cold autumn morning. A nasty rain drizzled, clouds flew across the sky like a flock of sheep. Gray and uncomfortable, not a single hint of the sun. Karina was standing in the yard. She didn't die, she just became seriously ill. Soon everything will be - you will be restored and painted. You will return to the roads and will NEVER again catch up with the Volga without stopars. I brushed off the raindrops that flowed down the glass like tears ... I completely flattened the tire, it was damp in the cabin, a sad picture opens in front ... Nothing, everything will be fine, I thought, and wandered through the mud to the bus stop.
Public transport ... How wild it looks after you spend half a year behind the wheel. The tram, old and rattling, with misted windows and flickering lights, greeted me with the smell of fumes and burnt wiring. Tuesday morning - how much can you drink? 28 minutes and 11 rubles by tram versus 7 minutes and 3.75 rubles by car — this is the result of this trip.
Some other world ... When I got behind the wheel of Karina, it was warm outside, the sun was shining, a warm wind was blowing and it was dry. The time during which everything changed to rain, slush and a westerly wind somehow passed by - after all, since the summer it was stable +26 degrees in the cabin.
I was already walking back, my legs carried along the standard route. I noticed strange actions behind me that have become a habit - I stand on a red one, but I start to “pull myself up” when the perpendicular green blinks, and my eyes involuntarily squint at non-existent mirrors. If driving is a drug, then it looks like I'm having a withdrawal.

Take care of yourself, take care of your iron horses.