careless

It is light outside, light grey is the colour dominating, the walls the sky and the glass that reflects these things. The colours are desaturated, and pale.
Sunday morning, put on the clothes, make coffee and leave the building. There is no wish to take a shower, there is no wish at all.
For anything.
The door closed behind walk down the street, there are persons wandering about lost looking, there is nothing to do today. Walk down the street to one of the pay parking spots used last night when the whole town was filled with people in from the country, all hanging out in those local establishments providing the weeks entertainment. Get into the car, and drive down the street, the rumbling sound from the tyres on the cobble stones loud, competing with the tiny diesel engine..
Take the right away from the cobbled street, smooth tar now, stop at traffic lights. There ahead is the signs advertising the filling station, the place to replenish the tank after yesterdays long drive.
Look at the meter whilst filling the car, then there is a splashing sound.
The automatic cutoff did not work properly, and there is diesel wasted from the full tank, dripping down the side of the car and running over the pavement of the filling station.
That was a silly thing to do, careless.