Out of Gas

Finally ran head-on into one of the perils of living in the country.

Put in a late night Tuesday. Spoke to the Floyd Women’s Club, then returned to the studio to work. Noticed when I was driving back to The Jacksonville Center that I needed gas.

“That’s OK,” I thought. “I’ll get some on the way home.”

Amy called at 11:15.

“When are you coming home?”

Looked at my watch.


The last gas station in Floyd closed at 11.

“Not coming home,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Out of gas.”

“I’ll come get you.”

“Not this time of night.” It’s a 38-mile roundtip from the farm and back.