Inspiration by Edward Hopper Painting

My hand is shaking as I hold the nozzle in my hand. I put my other hand around it so I can stabilize my body. After many failed attempts, I finally get the metal rod into my car. I gently pull the lever until the gas starts dribbling down through the inner-workings of my worn down station wagon. I have too much to think about. My physical body is not the unit that is fully failing me. My wandering, cynical mind is the entity responsible for my new and un-welcomed sense of frailty.

I stare past the tall red pump towards the white gas station building. I decided that I should not let my mind wander. I need to focus on visual stimuli instead of letting my thoughts overtake me in a heavy wave of black crashing around in my head. I glare intently at the shadows that are forming on the ground ahead of me. The sun is rising behind me, causing dark grey figures to slowly creepy forward. They grow bigger and bigger with each passing minute.

Suddenly I hear the metallic clink of the gas nozzle telling me that its job is done. At first it seems like a noise that is very far off, comparable to the annoying high pitched beeps that start to invade your dreams, but you do not realize that it is the screaming of your alarm clock until you have fully awoken. I am transfixed by the emerging shadow giants. My eyes are glued to them. My mind is blank, which is preferable to my usual tendencies of over-thinking.