Zoë Bowyer

This is my car. My wee Polo Coupe Fox. My wee Caz. She has had that name a long time now. Even before she was mine, when she lived in my mother’s yard for a year, I called her Caz. It’s short for Cassandra (cos she thinks she’s a bit posh, but really she’s an old banger). We keep having to have things fixed on her, so we have decided to get a new car. Today we have sold her registration, so she will go to the car graveyard as a no-name slob. It will be a sad day when the number plates are changed.

Hopefully the man at the car graveyard will give us a good price for her - considering the amount of dosh he has charged us for all the replacement parts in her! Inside she is practically a new car, but her shell is falling to bits.

It is funny to think that Caz’s name could now find itself on some Bangor Doctor’s Beamer. Caz did once belonged to a doctor, back in her prime before my mother, me and D had had chance to leave her in the cold and rain to rust.