She was alone. May blinked, trying to stay awake. Her eyes moved to the gas gauge.
Almost empty.
"Great," she muttered, spotting a small gas station up ahead, the only building she’d seen in a while. Its old neon sign blinked: OPEN.
She pulled in slowly. The place looked old, like no one had fixed it in years. The store lights were dim, and no one was behind the counter. A small note sat near the register: "Leave payment in the box."
May grabbed her purse, stepped out, and stretched. The cool air brushed her skin, waking her up a little. She walked inside, her footsteps soft on the dirty floor.
She grabbed a water bottle, some gum, and pain pills. Her head hurt, too many things to be done in her office, too little rest. She left ten bucks in the box and walked out, sipping her water.
