In the concrete belly of an otherwise abandoned factory sits affixed to the glass littered floor an early 1970's Chevrolet Caprice. Tucked away and hidden, never to be found, she lays listless with little hope that she will cruise the double yellow lined asphalt again.
Like a tomb of gnarled rusted metal buried year after year and decade after decade, this is her final resting place in darkness without a ray of light. Then suddenly like the meaning of her name Caprice, she suddenly and unaccountably has a change of behavior and is dragged out aided by the hydraulics of a massive machine.
For a mere moment or two, there was hope. A slight desire that maybe the expectations of restoration would happen. But the dream quickly ends by the two thick tines of a forklift that impales her broadside and precariously tosses her into a hopper headed straight to the scrap yard.
What once was a Dream end in a Nightmare!