Fill It Up

Harold slotted the nozzle into the gas tank and glanced to the other side of the pump, where a blond woman was filling up her little two door.

“Wish this place was a little more convenient,” he said. “It’s the only place between home and work to fill up, though.”

She glanced up and smiled. “It’s out of my way. He insists on it, though. He likes the taste.” She patted her car’s trunk.

Harold chuckled, until she turned to hang up the nozzle and he saw the tongue dart out of her gas tank, lapping up the spilled droplets.