Part 1 of Essay
"Hey Joe, hand me the 3/16 socket," I mumbled into the underside of my car. I felt a nudge in my ribs as my friend, Joe, handed me the socket I asked for. Matching the ends of the hexagonal shaped socket with the stub on my wrench, I pushed the two together. A loud click signaled the two ends of the socket and wrench fit ....

Part 2 of Essay
.... the “sqshhh sqshhh” of the spray bottle. Always being the meticulous one, he continued his wipe and spray cycle for many hours to make sure his car was immaculate. As I turned one of the bolts clockwise to tighten it, I felt a sharp, searing pain on the upper portion of my hand. Instinctively, I swore, forgetting all the lessons on good manners my parents had taught me. I brought my hand up to inspect the wound but the darkness of the garage, the setting sun, and the little remaining light my car blocked mad ....