written by King
original source of the story was Submitted by the author
Hello everyone. Long time reader; first time writer. This is a true experience. Enjoy!
My mom and I moved to Madrid when I was a teenager. We lived in a fairly affluent neighbourhood in the city centre, where the streets were lined with elegant apartment buildings, small cafés, and tightly packed rows of parked cars. Finding a space on the street was almost impossible, so my mom rented a parking spot in an underground garage nearby.
The entrance of the garage was built into the ground floor of one of the residential buildings. A wide metal door opened onto a steep, straight concrete ramp leading down to the first basement level. Like many garages in central Madrid, it had clearly been designed for smaller cars: the ramp was narrow enough to only let one car pass. Inside, the garage was cool and dim. Fluorescent lights ran along the ceiling, casting a pale glow over concrete pillars marked with scratches from years of cars squeezing past them. The air smelled faintly of petrol, dust, and warm rubber. The ground was full of filth and dust brought in by the cars that had driven all over the city. Continue reading “First time hand runover“