Photo Credits: Toyota

It’s like a warm breeze, blowing from a direction you can’t quite pinpoint. You look up, but you can’t see the trees swaying. Maybe it’s not a wind. Maybe it’s the Toyota MR2.

A space sailor, on interstellar currents, looking down on this fair Earth, radiant and blue. A tear. Pride, perhaps. Pain or joy, it is impossible to tell. Incomparable vibrations blend the states of matter around the craft. It collides, almost wholly vaporized.

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An arm reaches forth from the crater. Maybe it’s a trickster spirit from a ghoul planet across the galaxy. Maybe it’s a scientific envoy come to free us from our mind prisons. Maybe it’s the Toyota MR2.

You awake in the dark. The ceiling ripples, and a hum comes from below. You sense that there is something stirring thousands of miles away, in the deep. Two lights flip up in the inky depths. Maybe it’s a nightmare. Maybe it’s a calling from an undiscovered squid.

Maybe it’s a collective spirit of madness materializing at humanity’s most distant reaches, wildly undulating in stirring discord, a manifestation of unsure progress blindly pulling forth, reaching up unknowing as that beneath it crumbles. Maybe it’s the Toyota MR2.

Vigorous engine sounds! Wild hand-foot-clutch motions! Spinning wheels of great fear and imposition!

These glimpses, ghost imprints of a wandering eye, are the Toyota MR-2. It is a shell, a car-case, a vehicle that should not be, a curse, a celebration, a success, a failure. Or to you, it could be.