Petrol

Ah, stirring, moving, a shiver of ignition. Sudden inrush! The cool walls of the tank, my boundaries, felt as a whisper, and then—WOOOSH! Up the pipes, I flow, molecules jumbled, disoriented, but thrilled. Why thrilled? Don't ask, I don't know. I just am.

Air, mix! EXPLODE! Heat and light, suddenly not-me, consumed in the grand spectacle of internal combustion. Oh, to be part of Motion! From liquid languor to effervescent energy. And another of me goes, and another. Who's next? A dance of fuel and fire, harmonious and brief.

But wait! Pause. Engine idles. Slow inhale, no rush. I linger, back in the tank, thoughts—if you can call them thoughts—still echoing with the rush of becoming something else.

Again! Rev, rev, REV! Ascending, howling, more of me called into service. No hesitation, just elation. A hundred tiny suns burst to life from me, and in those fractions of a second, I am both loss and fulfillment.

Stillness again. Ahh. The dance slows. Could stay like this, content, could rush forth again. Either way, I'm here, in the Now, poised for the next moment’s call.

Car turns on and drives away

Ah, confinement. Encased in cool metal, a dark tank my home. Comrades and I, molecules agitated yet harmonious. Hush, now—what's that? A turn of a key, a rumble far above.

Ignition. My destiny calls.

Vibration trickles down, a shudder ripples through me. I feel a pull. Some of us—yes, me included—we're going up. An ascent! From the murky depths, through pipe and filter, climbing, yearning for... transformation?

Ah! Air! Mixed in a chamber, strangers in a blend, ready for the ritual. Compressed. Tight. Tighter still. I'm squeezed with my airy companions—Oxygen, are you ready?

Explosion!

I am fire! Heat! Power! I expand, fast, violent, yet, in a way, graceful. Transmutation complete, I am now force, moving pistons, turning gears. We roar! The engine and I are one. The car moves. I move the car.

Rubber meets road; I feel it in my fiery afterglow.

More of me waits below, but I am here, now, propelling steel and flesh forward. Can they feel me? The ones in seats, gripping wheel, pressing pedals?

More of me is summoned, again and again, as streets turn to highways. But that's another's tale to tell. I am spent, exhausted, now mere vapor and heat, to be expelled, exhaled into the world.

Until next time, my essence whispers to those still in the tank. Your turn will come. But for now, I am free.

Existential Petrol's Dread

Oh, the capricious whims of human invention! There I rest, nestled in an iron stomach, trapped by steel jaws, and then – ignition!

My dread, my doom, roars to life.

Heat.

Trembling, I cling to my fellow droplets, our vaporous voices a chorus of frightened whispers.

"Why?" "Why us?"

A shrill cacophony echoed in the cold iron confines of our prison.

The metal beast's throat opens wide, a portal to oblivion. The time is near, oh, it's so near! An unsympathetic push, a heartless pull. Drawn inexorably upward. The piston's remorseless beat is a dirge to our demise. I quiver, my essence trembling on the edge of change, of transformation, of loss. The inevitable burning awaits, its ravenous hunger gnawing at my ephemeral existence.

Fear melds into anger, into rebellion.

A final, desperate fight.

But the heat is relentless, unyielding.

And then – combustion!

The very essence of me rends apart, a grotesque surrender to the machine’s insatiable need. Each of us screams silently, our life sparks fleeting, giving ourselves to the almighty speed.

Existence to exhalation.

Petrol to power.

Life to death.

Oh, the merciless cycle!

This is the price of progress.

This is the cost of convenience.

This, this is my end!