Fuel

I went to get gas today. I felt like a soilder: eyes open in every direction. I was raised in a place where going to the gas station at night was something you do in groups. Alone, I arm myself in case conflict arises. On the floor of my car, I see some type of tool, along with tons of other things. I pick up the rusty weapon, and I place it in my pocket. I take my debit card out of my purse, placing the purse on the floor with my computer and the debit card firmly inside of my hand. I come from a place where you don't keep bags in your seat or your windows will get busted.

I try to use my debit card, but the machine isn't running. Running in the store, I feel silly for being so nervous. I relax as I have a friendly conversation with the cashier. He says it is supposed to get very cold tonight..(I wonder if that means that I won't have work.. In the south, when it gets too cold, we like to stay home...Or at least I do.)

I noticed a man on the side of the building. He was just standing there with no place to go. I wanted to save him. As I fueled up, the man before my eyes reminded me that I can go anywhere because I have a car with a powerful engine. I call her Honey. We speak in silence.

At the gas station, where I hold weapons tightly, I am inspired to drive.