The shade of the gas station

 The cypresses touch the petrol station roof.
Using it for support and darkening that corner where no cars park.

Routine is juice, gas, gasoline.

The commuter pulls in with his new flash car, cellphone to ear.
Hand a few hertz from shaking on the steering wheel.

His tyre hits the reservoir lid as if he was blind.
His window comes down in a rush to call an attendent.

The pavement is a finished task like a schedule filled out.

The attendent lazily makes his way from the shade of the cypresses
Toward the neurotic man who is probably late for a life and death stakes situation

The road is full of potholes and cracks like the man's nerves.

-What can i get for you?
-Gasoline and quick, I'm late for a meeting.

The early morning cloud accumulates it threatens to rain
Not on the attendant, but on the rushing man.

-Cash or card?
-Card, quickly!!!

The transaction happens quickly the man pushing the card machine away.
Starting engine, revving and speeding out of the gas station.

The old man walking his dog on the street nodded to the attendant.
-You are a patient one, good on you.

But even so, the attendent lowered his head and made his way back to the plastic seat,
In the shade of cypresses.

He watched his shoes step as he hung his head, heard the rev of the crazy man.
His next step encountered the line of shade on the petrol station forecourt.

He heard a screech and then a deafening crash.
He looked around but all he could see was the old man with his little dog.

-Never be in such a rush that it takes living life away from you.
 The old man said.
The young attendant looked down at his shoes. 

In the young man's mind all he could think about was the fact he needed a new pair of shoes.
And a car like that of the rude man who had just passed through.
He was probably somewhere important by now. While the young man was stuck pumping gas.
These thoughts filled the young man with dismay. Even as the abrupt sound of the ambulance came screeching out of nowhere.