THE GARAGE

The first thing is the smell.

Oil. Leather. Rain on warm pavement.

Something faintly sweet.

Perhaps toast.

The Garage stretches ahead.

Cars, motorcycles, bicycles, buses, boats, a horse-drawn carriage, a little blue wagon and a hot-air balloon stretch farther into the Garage.

Farther along are a submarine, a helicopter, a steam locomotive and a vehicle that appears to be half-bicycle and half-bathtub.

The Estate has never been particularly interested in parking regulations.

At the far end stands a spaceship.