Descriptive Paragraph: The Old Car Out Front

In front of my house sits a faded, grey Lexus ES 300, my first car. The dents serve as war stories of a car that’s seen better days. There’s a large, rusted gash from the day before high school prom, when I failed to recognize I went the wrong way down a one way street. The bumper, is haphazardly and quickly bandaged together, from the day I was accepted into college and just “too excited to drive” as my father would later say. Good luck to anyone who attempts to get the air conditioner to work on a hot day. They’ll also find it impossible to get all that sand out of the rug – a testament to seemingly endless summers on the shore. The car isn’t worth much to anyone, but there’s an old cross handing on the rear view mirror, a reminder of when my belated grandpa used to pick me up from middle school and say “one day this will be your car.”