I looked at that indent with loss so deep nothing could fill it.

It told a story. A simple one, for sure, but with so much meaning. It was dug into the ground with longing, I like to think. The worst thing was happening and a fight to hold on began, begging that it would be over, that it was a dream. Then the tears began as realization swept in and the real horror began.

The story this simple dent in the earth told was of how two men lifted the rear end of my scooter so that they could move it into a van the third man was backing up. My scooter was resting peacefully on the rocky side of the driveway when they did this early in the morning. The handle bars were locked in place, so when they lifted the rear end the weight of the scooter shifted to the front wheel, which tried desperately to hold on as it dug into the ground while the two men wobbled in place holding onto it. But once the back of the scooter was in the van it was a simple matter for the front to be lifted and the scooter rolled inside. Then the doors shut, and my scooter was gone.

It was a great scooter. 150cc’s, checkered blue, space under the seat for light shopping. It got me to work, to my favorite beer store, and anywhere around town. I could get up to 50mph as I tooled around town, narrowly missing getting sideswiped a few times. I changed its oil, fixed its tires, replaced the starter motor, and the engine chip. I looked through youtube videos to find ways to fix and maintain it. I wanted to take the engine apart and give it a real deep cleaning, maybe swap out the spark plug and checking the caliper settings. And even when it was not running while waiting for parts, I still took the time to look at it to make sure it was okay.

That dent, that gouge in the ground, is all that’s left of it. Time and the weather is slowly making it disappear, but as it is rocky ground it’s going to take a while. It’s been a few days but I still cringe when I go out and see that it’s not there. The first day I noticed it gone was harder. My mind couldn’t comprehend that it wasn’t there, making the empty spot hard to look at. I looked around thinking maybe it was just up the street or around the corner. It sank in, like mud down a slope, and I felt just as buried in it. It was my best friend, and the loss I feel is just as deep as if I lost a loved one. Sure, I can replace it. But I won’t be able to get over it for a while. That was my first scooter, and it changed my life in some ways. And that empty dent is as big as the hole in my heart.

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