While reading “Daumier” a short story by Donald Barthelme:
“A man was swearing fine-sounding swearwords at a small yellow motorcar of Italian extraction, the same having joined its bumper to another bumper, the two bumpers intertangling like shameless lovers in the act of love.”
From my own writing:
“Slowly, slowly the two cars, now joined together like lovers dancing, move toward the sidewalk right where I am standing, frozen. Next to me stands an elderly Italian tourist couple. The woman gasps as she watches the two vehicles inch towards the horse and buggy that is positioned between us and the cars.”
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