Big Iron

Previously

…As I turned to head back, leaving the truck to its slumber under the watchful eyes of the ancient trees, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Not in a menacing way, but with a gentle, curious gaze. Perhaps it was just the woods settling in for the night, or maybe, just maybe, the old Ford was already starting to breathe again, a faint tremor of anticipation running through its steel bones. I knew, with a certainty that settled deep in my gut, that I would be back tomorrow, and the day after that, and for every day it took to bring this magnificent beast back to life. The dream had taken root, and I was determined to see it bloom.