He worked at a gas station for the last fifty two years making no more than minimum wage no one really knew his name so we all called him gas station Joe he was well in his sixties maybe a little bit older and he didn’t talk all that much no one was really sure if he could he just kindly nodded his head and smile no one knew where he came from or where he was going or where he had been every morning he would pump my gas and smile sweetly revealing a mouth full of missing teeth he had a kind face and I somehow felt connected to him I always gave him a big tip and a little more the lines on his face showed only traces of the pain he had felt pain like no one else pain that couldn't be described or named the callousus and roughness of his hands showed that life had been rough for this kind spirited man they said he lived in a one room shack behind the station I had to ask myself why would such a sweet man lived a life like this someone said after the war he came back home to find himself all alone the woman he had vowed his love to had past on from an illness no one told him because no one knew of their secret randevu their secret love affair the wonderful plans they shared with no where else to go he became a drifter a loner and at the age of twenty three he found himself sleeping on the streets eating food out of trash cans everynight he prayed to God prayed that he would send him some help one day a man came and offered him a job at a gas station he accepted with much gratification during the day he worked his fingers to the bone and at night he wrote in a journal that he kept in a drawer underneath his cot he once showed it to me it was made out of old leather and it had the intials E.R.P ingraved on the side I asked him who it was and he showed me a picture of his wife Ella Rene Peterson he wanted me to read it to him they were her words and he wanted to hear them out loud so I sat down on the bed the first line I read made me cry I didn’t know what to say i could so relate everyday I wake up wishing I could die just disppear into the blakness of the world because the lonliness in my heart is aching to get out slowly killing me and yet sadly no one will ever hear of my great love for my heart had been broken that I had forgotten how to speak I looked over at him and he shook his head these were his words and he wanted me to hear to hear him talk to me not through his mouth but through his heart He fell asleep in an old rocking chair so I placed the journal back into the safe spot and started home later that night I decided to go for a long walk to clear my mind I couldn't help but wonder what his life would have been like if she was still around I guess noone will ever know how lonely of a man gas station Joe really was
Reason for writing:
true story
Birth sign: Aries
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