PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I took the nozzle out and hung it back up on its handle. My eyes squinted at inflated digital numbers and let out a sigh at their ratio to gallons. I took my keys out and began to fiddle with them. It was muggy, the sun unsuccessfully tried to burrough through the haze that hung like a drape. I make a quarter turn towards my truck when I hear a voice behind me. Casually, I turn to see a kid, maybe around 18 or 19, nothing about his appearance stuck out, but I could instantly sense he wasn't a local. Maybe it was the lack of purpose or conviction in his pupils, or his uneven shifting of weight. I peeked just over his shoulder. Pennsylvania license plates. Maybe that was it.

   "Excuse me," he stammers, "I'm just trying to find the fastest way to get back to route 6 heading west."

   I took a swig of soda, noting subconsciously how I prefered glass bottles to plastic, almost to a point that it bothered me. It's hot as balls out though, so fuck it.

   "Well, that depends, where you headed?"

   "Oh, I'm going towards the bridge," he says vaguely. I ignore it.

   "Okay, take a left out of here, and your going to head down here about, oh, i dunno, shit, two miles..."

   I can tell he's put his mind into secretary mode, scribbling down in the air what I'm saying through surges of quick, flashing neuron charges shooting through the channels in his brain, but he's not aware of that, all he's aware of is that he's supposed to go right out of here...wait...left.

   "...and you'll see signs for 6, don't worry, but at Higgins Crowell Road, you take a right and follow that to Willow Ave..."

   He cuts me off, "Okay, wait wait, left out of here...then go down a bit and take a right onto Higgins Crossing like two lights down..."

   "No no no," I wave him off like a mentor correcting his mislead student harshly, "It's 2 miles, not sure how many lights, and its Higgins Crowell Road, don't worry there are signs."

   "Okay okay okay, Higgins Crowell, then Willow, go on."

   "Yeah, right onto Willow Ave and you'll follow it around a rotary, just keep bearing down and stay on Willow, and..."

   His struggles persisted, "Rotary wait, rotary, what's a rotary?" His face still looks uncomfortable, clearly scratching to grasp my wisdom, but all it took was a two syllable word to throw him off.

   "A rotary, like a circle, or a roundabout, you just follow it around, like I said, don't worry about it, just pay attention for Willow Ave..."

   Again, a quick cut off before he quickly retreats back to let me finish, sensing that the heat was getting to me and despite my importance to his situation right now, had an entire life of my own to attend to. "Okay rotary, no worries, got it," running his hand smoothly through his unkempt orangish hair, revealing more his thin set eyes and freckles. He looked like a surfer who had arrived at the ocean to find it drained and dried up.

   "Yeah...just keep going man, and Willow Ave runs right to route 6, hop on it heading west and your good to go."

   "Okay, let me get this straight, one last time, sorry," he interjected, "I go ri, left out of here and drive to Higgins Crowell Road, a right onto that, down to Willow Ave, follow it around the rotary, and then just hop on 6 west, and that will take me to the bridge." It was more like he was addressing himself out loud rather than talking to me.

   "Yeah, your all set. Have a good one."

   "Okay, great, thanks man," he waved as he trotted back to his jeep and hopped in. I looked down back at my keys, hopped into my truck and turned on the radio. Good song. I reached back awkwardly grabbing at my seat belt, and took another swig from my plastic soda bottle. The kid in the jeep pulled out in front of me, waving. I gave him a little nod as I slid my truck into gear. I watched as he slowed briefly, pulling up to the street, looked to his right and then started to pull out when a massive dump truck careened into him like a comet smashing into a cupcake with a terrific noise. The jeep instantly burst into flames and was transformed into a heap of twisted bars and metal sheets skidding across the pavement until it came to rest almost imbedded in the grill of the dump truck, a smoking, fiery mass.