It's a kind of magic

E/O Drabble challenge, word: trash.

Summary: The things you call trash might've meant the world to someone, sometime. They could've gathered memories, and emotions, and perhaps even more than that. Set in the future.

A/N: Trash. Awesome word – so many options. I chose one and rewarded myself with 200 words for that self-restraint :-)

After all this time searching it was by pure chance that he came across that old junkyard, as sad and rotten as the cars that ended here as trash. And there it stood – a 1967 Impala, no doubt. The black faded to grey, headlights long gone, sides scarred and dented, tires slashed. In fact it looked like a corpse, defeated by too many violent attacks, and for a moment he felt... unease. But then, through a blind window, he saw it. The steering wheel – exactly what he'd been looking for. He felt like jumping and cheering. Finally! The last missing piece to make his Beauty whole again.

Almost reverently he opened the driver's door. The upholstery was musty and damp, but the wheel felt smooth and silky and warm to his touch, as if it'd been waiting for him, and for a moment he thought he'd heard a voice humming AC/DC and soft laughter and a silvery path of light was cutting through a starlit night and he shivered and was back at the junkyard and he hurried to dismount the steering wheel and carry it home to his car. And that's when the really weird stuff started to happen.