Flying

Have you ever seen a flying car? I have. Well, almost. I didn’t actually see it fly but I know it did. How? Uncle Keith. He told me. It was a Saturday morning back in 1990. I was sitting in the backseat of my uncle’s Cressida next to my older cousins, Timmy and Brigitte. Aunty Viola was riding shotgun. They were up from ‘Maritzburg and we were going to Eastgate to get milkshakes… and that’s when it happened. You know those buttons in fancy cars (like Cressidas)? You push them and the window comes down, like magic—no handles or anything? Well, I’ve got news for you! Those buttons don’t only wind down windows. They’re multifunctional. Those times when you’re driving with your mom and dad late at night, counting street lights and contemplating far off galaxies… you close your eyes and before you know it, it’s as if the car is gliding. The noise of tyres on tar? Gone. Now I know why. Yup—my uncle let me in on that juicy little secret. He even let me push the button to “wind down the windows” that time when I was in the backseat on our way to get milkshakes. Without sticking my head completely out the window and risking certain decapitation (taxis, jollers, windgats), I popped my eyeballs as far out their sockets as they could safely go. Maybe I couldn’t see it but I could tell—we were flying.

 

Author & Storyteller: Andrea Zanin

Andrea is a writer, wife, mother and dreamer; also the author of this website. She moved to London in 2006 to earn £s, travel, see bands and buy 24-up Dr Martens—which she did, and then ended up staying. Andrea lives in North London with her husband (also a Saffa) and five children. She loves this grand old city but misses her home and wishes her children could say “lekker” (like a South African) and knew what a “khoki” is.

 

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