Cheap Gas   Fiction by Daniel Bradford  Copyright 2010 All
rights reserved   Back when thirty bucks could still buy a tank
of gas, I was driving on a narrow mountain highway and praying
that a gas station would soon appear. The red fuel indicator
light had been illuminated for quite some time and the last gas
station I passed looked to have been closed for at least ten
years. The situation was more than a bit nerve-wracking but I
was trying not to beat myself up as I was headed home from a
blissful week of doing nothing. I was, or had been beyond mellow
when the fucking light first appeared. Without knowing who or
what I thought I might be bargaining with, I had reached a
$5/gallon bargain plea, when a gas station appeared a couple of
miles further down the road.  I pulled up to the pumps being
careful to be on the correct side. The engine stalled and
without power to the brakes I almost overshot the pump. I
shifted into park and turned off the engine, while exhaling a
grateful thank you to the cosmos.  That