Ignition Problems

Fear made my breathing heavy. The mower was a beast to be conquered. Dark, shiny tires, still slick with anti-drying agent from the factory. Seamless paint, proudly showing off its lack of dirt, grass or scratches. Everything about it was intimidating. It took me a week to muster up the courage to get it out and take on the lawn after I had bought it. By then the grass was so long that I feared the blades would seize up and the whole thing would explode.

Now that I was sitting astride this monster machine I realized that it wouldn’t be an issue to get it to mow the lawn. Getting it to stop would be the problem. I could tell that the inertia and rage of the thing would carry forwards far longer than I might need it to go.

I turned the key and it spat out a choking, coughing sputter. I tried again and it still sounded unhappy. I sat for a moment, perplexed. How could a creature so hideous be so coy? I got off of the seat and checked the gas tank. It seemed to be full, but I opened it and topped it off with some fresh gas from the can on the other side of my reliably untidy garage.

The oil was fine as well. I went around the back of thing and lifted the seat to take a look at the battery. The wires were loose. It didn’t make sense, but wires are loose sometimes, occasionally without reason. I jiggled them to establish a better connection, and a single spark flew from the clumsy metal wires.

The glint of energy traced a tiny arc towards the floor of the garage. Its descent placed it right in the middle of a puff of vapor from the gasoline I had just poured. The spark turned into a jet of flame, which erupted into a fireball. I was thrown backwards and crumpled in a heap at the base of the wall. I breathed out deeply, one last time.