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I had this severe affinity for toy cars when I was a kid. All kinds of them, from itsy bitsy plastic ones to freewheeling miniature models. I used to build city highways and lots of traffic intersections with chalk on the floor, and mountain roads crawling up sand mounts with twig railings along steep cliffs and little rocks here and there. But as I remember, mostly I did not push or pull my cars along the roads; I will just leave them on these roads, as if waiting at a traffic intersection, or parked near a steep cliff by the side of a mountain way, like starting to climb up a rising patch of road, and look at them from different angles. And at nights, when I was alone, I used to put them up on the dining table, in bright light, when its all silent around, and look at them, standing still, tyres and all, with the faint hum of the fluorescent lamp in the background. I still can't seem to explain how it feels, its, its like a toy car standing still, on a plane surface, when all is silent around, except a faint hum of the fluorescent lamp in the background.
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