My wife is renowned for her boundless generosity.

So much so, that for Christmas last year she bought me a Ferrari. I kid you not. She bought me a bright red, shiny, new Ferrari. Imagine my surprise and delight when I came downstairs on Christmas morning, and there it was, waiting for me. It was even gift-wrapped!

I immediately took it out for a spin. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the top was down, as I sped through the town and headed out into the countryside. The roar of its powerful engine was music to my ears, a series of growls, grunts and whines all in perfect harmony, like a symphony that a great classical composer might have created had he used this car engine as his instrument; the Stradivarius, the Steinway of engine noises.

I was lost in the intoxicating combination of that beautiful engine roar, the thrill of speed, the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. Ah, freedom!. My little red machine twisted and turned, responding instantly and forcefully to the slightest request for acceleration, as I guided it deftly and lovingly through the winding, deserted country roads.

On and on we went, through fields of poppies and sunflowers, down a road lined with tall symmetrical plane trees, their grey trunks lined up like soldiers on parade and their overhanging leaves providing a canopy to shade me briefly from the hot sun. On down to the ocean and on to the coast road we went, my bright red Ferrari and I, slowing briefly to inhale the sea breeze, and to marvel at the whiteness of the sand on the deserted beach, where palm trees swayed and the suns rays glistened brightly on the surface of the azure blue water.

Turning back inland, we headed once more for the empty tarmac of the open country roads. For what seemed like many hours, I tossed my little red Ferrari left and right, as it gripped through the bends, and thrust me back into my seat with the force of its acceleration on the straight; its agility and responsiveness never ceasing to delight and amaze me.

Eventually, and with a reluctant sigh, I returned, and parked my gleaming little red box of motoring magic, its engine now purring gently, in the driveway of our large, colonial mansion. As I stepped out of the car, my butler came to greet me, offering me a glass of Dom Perignon, which I quaffed thirstily.

I had enjoyed my spin in my new Ferrari immensely, and looked forward with enthusiasm to the next time that we could be united, man and machine, to rejoice in the freedom of the open road.

Then, hearing my wife call me for breakfast, I slowly opened my eyes, allowing the images to fade, picked up my bright red Ferrari and placed it carefully, on the shelf, where it stood proudly in line, next to my previous years Christmas presents, the Lamborghini, the Porsche, the Bentley and the Rolls Royce.

END

Copyright © 2009 Michael Curley. All rights reserved.