The gas station was desolate tonight. The road leading to it just as barren. The attendant a hollow husk propped up in the booth.
The light under the canopy created an island, separated from the rest of the world. The pump handle thrummed in my hand but after a while I wasn't sure if it was putting fuel in, or sucking it out.
This was a night where the road led nowhere. A chill darkness that wound around itself. A time to be lost in the static on the radio.
#microfiction