Contributor: Matt Fleming - - All he would need to do is get back in his car and drive away. Twenty, maybe twenty-five steps and he would be able to spare himself the shame and humiliation of asking Daisy to the prom. He stood in front of the door for a long while, staring at the rusting brass knocker. He willed his hand to move, but it decided that now would be a great time to give in to fear instead of, as his dad was often fond of saying, "bellying up to the bar". He cast a quick glance behind him to the car. It was his dad's old Ford, but in the night, with the damp southern air and being parked under one of the few working street lights around, it may as well have been 1964. It was the car his father took his mother out on their first date in. For years, it was his father's baby and his focus, even when mom would yell at him to...

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Author: Matt Fleming