Cooling Down

Rolled off the dirt pass and cut the ignition beside an empty roadside diner. The engine ticked as the chrome fins began cooling against the night air. I leaned back against the weathered wooden bench under the dead neon overhang, unhooking an old spark plug gap gauge from my pocket. Checked the metal prongs against a spare copper coin to measure the wear. Silence settled in. Out here on the dark pavement, the ride settles into your bones before you move again.