I’m sitting in my car next to the gas pump listening to the hard rain.  It’s falling in that way that sounds like rolling pebbles.  I can hear engines murmuring nearby and a man chattering violently on his phone about how people give you looks when you buy less than $5 in gasoline.

I got hooked on the smell of gas when I was a kid.  I have to make a conscious effort not to breathe it in when I’m fueling up.  I sit in my car to avoid my addiction as the numbers roll up.  My car smells stale and a little bit like coffee.