Edward Hopper: Gas

On the Open Road

I lean against my car, waiting for the service man finish with what he's doing. I stare off into the distance, daydreaming. Breathing deeply, I take in the sharp scent of the gas that permeates the air here. The smell sits thick and noxious in the back of my throat. But behind it, I smell something clean and fresh. Just the faintest scent of the forest. Golden grass waves at me from the side of the highway, as if beckoning me. It’s darker than normal, wet with the recent rainstorm that has just passes. faint shafts of light now illuminate the world, and one falls on me, warming my skin. A breeze caresses my face, chasing the smell of gas from my throat and filling it with the cool smell of the forest that awaits me beyond the golden grass. It looks fresh and dark, the road I follow disappearing into its depths. The road is empty and all mine, and I feel impatient to resume following it. I know not where it goes, for it goes away from here. Closing my eyes, I listen to the rustle of the wind in the grass and trees, waiting for the service man to call for me. Finally, I hear him, and in no time my tank is full and I am ready. My journey lies stretched before me, no foreseeable end or destination. I start my car, and she roars to life, almost as eager as me, it seems, to be back on the road. Soon, I am rushing into the dark tunnel of trees, sweet peace spreading through me with the clean air.