Diesel

     There was a place he used to go, a place that brought back the good times hand in hand with the bad. One day he went and found it gone, replaced by a petty gas station that routinely gouged its customers. Part of him died that day but another part was born; the part that hated that gas station.
    That point on, every time life threw him a curveball, he would stand in front of the gas station and scream the words of his emotion at it. The balance it gave him doing this was immeasurable. Then one rainy afternoon, years later, he went to find it shut down forever, as it had violated several health and safety laws. But instead of feeling sorrow, grief, or even anger at having lost this outlet for his furies, he felt unbelievably happy that it was gone.
    He hated that gas station.