Connections

When the tank was filled I closed the cap, set the nozzle back onto the pump and turned my back to the station, walking into the night.

As I neared the van I tossed the coffee cup into the field and focused on the blinking of the amber hazard lights sitting alone and quiet. Cars had stopped passing now but the wind still fluttered and bit at the nape of my neck. My feet whimpered with a soft ache and the tingle of the shoes rubbing listless against my ankles. I opened the gas door and cap and fumbled with the red tank until I had the nozzle situated tightly. My hands held the sweet toxic smell of gas but I thought little of it, instead rehearsing my movements for the return trip to the station to fill up the van. I could feel the quiet pull of my eyelids and the slow lethargy in my legs as I finished up with the tank and closed everything up. I wondered if sleep was a possibility but I kn