Finally, I’d raised the funds to finance our family vacation.
Every morning was mimosas and toast, every sunset a new shade of orange. The kids snorkeled with sharks! VR recordings to relive at home. But then I missed a payment. Interest piled up. Phone calls every hour.
The loan terms were clear. I led my family, droopy-eyed, back to the bank.
“Please, take your seats in the repossession modules.” The loan officer beckoned to a row of chairs bolted with straps, metal skullcaps dangling from above.
They’d take the car later. First, they’d have to repossess our memories.