A Mind of Its Own

Family

As Vincent was napping, all he was dreaming about was the car. Nowadays, that's all he thought about. He would think about what improvements he could make, or how smooth it could ride. His whole life was consumed with the car. For him it wasn't a problem, but for everyone else around him, it was an inconvenience. The times when Vincent wasn't in the garage with his car, no matter what the conversation was, it would always change to the car. Always.

When Vincent awoke, the aroma of spaghetti filled the room. Quinn had put Lisle in his high chair and was waiting for Vincent at the table. She had her eyes locked onto Vincent.

Dinner was quiet. It was not an awkward quiet, but an eery quiet.

"Isn't this nice" whispered Quinn. "A family meal." She was staring off into the distance with the same creepy smile as earlier.

"The car!" Vincent shouted as he dashed to the garage where his precious car was.

Quinn remained seated. She did not get up. She didn't even flinch when Lisle started crying. After an hour and a half, she calmly walked to the garage and opened the door.

"Honey would you mind coming in" she politely asked.

"I can't. I have to keep working."

"Ok" she snapped.

Vincent quickly went back to work, and Quinn went back inside.