Wayland Lynn Gray

Gas City is a place where it’s always just after dusk on the hottest night of the summer. Police sirens echo through the streets every hour, on the hour, but no one even notices any more. It’s little more than background noise, like lost children crying for their mothers or the sound of overworked air conditioning units, trying to spit out their final last breaths of cold air before breaking down for good. Single 60 watt bulbs glow electric on booze, pills, stripper’s lace, newspapers from months ago. Everybody plans on getting out one day, somewhere that life isn’t so damn hard, but the city only holds your dreams and hopes out in front of you, just out of reach, just like the moon.

‘Gas City Blues’ is about two people that almost found something like love in a place like that.

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