Molly and the Silver Convertible

Molly drove to my work. She had beautiful silver convertible. It was a gorgeous day. She had strawberry blond hair. She wasn't hippie dippie, but she was still beating to her own drum even though she wore very posh clothes and drove a posh car. For some reason it's important to me that the car was facing the left and not the right. Every time I saw her, which was four, she had a different hairstyle - straight down, in a bun, in a pony tail and braided. She had a friend with her whose name was Shannon. She needed something from me and I was there to give it to her. She climbed up the outside window of my work. My boss P. was there and he was being his usual selfish person trying to take all the thunder.