Sputtering in a car

She sat in the seat. Looking directly out of her window she made out figures that walked along the pavement. She imagined that they were gliding. It was better that way. Things were better that way. Grander, larger than life. For life could be boring and she had to do something. Something to make it more exciting. Because the world that she sat in was boring. Stimulation laid dead and so spontaneous acts of madness were needed to sustain a pulse. Her belly rose, shoving forward her lavender blouse , skidding along the steering wheel. Sighing she turned the key and her engine slowly rattled back to a roar.