The creeking is part of the charm...

ECCENTRICITY

The trolley car creaked down the street, the walls shifting slightly at each bend in the track, like the cars on an old, dried-out wooden coaster. There were years of paint covering the rivets holding the metal together and sometimes, in the summer, when the car turned into an oven, the latex would bubble, giving bored children something to pick at as the car wound along busy streets and seep residential hills as the conductor called out stops and women with too many packages yanked the cord that rang the bell. They’d step off and that old girl would sigh.