From Chapter Seven of the new novel, Velvet:
“The smell of automobile exhaust struck me the moment my feet hit the sidewalk. It was a delicious scent.
Just across the street was one of a few small parking lots typically packed with tourist’s cars. Tonight, it was roped off and hosting a collection of classic American muscle.
The sight of the automobiles made me think of my youth and growing up surrounded by muscle cars. I never grew tired of that smell nor the sound of a V8 springing to life, the sight of a burn out, the pure excitement of heavy metal thunder.
A disk jockey played one golden oldie after another. The music cascaded over me in waves, carried on the cold autumn breeze blowing in off the river. I buttoned my coat against the wind and headed over the cobblestones to check out the cars.
Several people danced by the riverside. The river ferries ran back and forth across the water from one hotel dock to another, dodging the occasional container ship that made its way into port. White canopies as far as the eye could see snaked down the river walk, sheltering artisans and their wares.
But at this moment, all that mattered to me were the cars.”
Photo credit: oyster.com