Abstract

“… Be right back” is what you hear as the back door of your dad's car close with a hollow sound. He stopped on your local gas station just to buy milk and a few groceries for mom.

You didn't wanna go so you stayed in the car to watch the city. As soon as his back disappears in the depths of the shop you change sides. The car slightly sways from one side to another as you change seats to look out of the other window.

You know this place. Ιt's on the way home from your practice and your dad stopped here to buy a few things a thousand times before. Outside your home there is probably not too many places that you know as good as this one.

You have always loved the vibrant neons on the roof and the magazines in the shop and the smell of gasoline and how it always is the same here.

It's the place that never changes.

You observe the city around the station as it bathes in the orange rays of the late November sun. It is autumn and the sun is coming down earlier each day. You can hear the traffic in the distant streets but this one is almost empty. It does not lead anywhere.

As you move your head closer to the window you can almost feel the glass. Ιt's ice cold.

The chilly crisp air outside doesn't seem to bother a group of teenagers smoking cigarettes next to their muscle cars just a few metres from you. They are intimidating, thankfully you are here with dad.

You are watching them with interest. What's it like, to be a teenager? Or an adult? It has to be great, you can do anything in the world, you don't have to go to school, and you have money! You can't wait for that.

It all took just a minute or two before your dad opens the car door and swiftly jumps in. He rubs his cold hands and blows hot air into them. Then he smiles at you: “Ready, cowboy?”

Waking up from your daydream you realize that it has probably been 15 or more years since this moment. A moment when you were just a child in your dad's car.

Now you are here again. On the same gas station. This time behind the wheels.

You look around and you still see the same things. The neons, magazines, smell of gasoline and a group of teenagers just a few metres from your car. It has been so long, yet it feels exactly the same.

It's the place that never changes.