Coasting in.

Driving home last night, stop-and-go traffic on the 101, gas gauge pegged to E, I finally ran out of gas about half a mile short of my exit. Restarted the truck and made it as far as the exit, then a couple blocks up Poplar, before the truck ran out of gas again while I was waiting at the light. Restarted it the second the light turned green, gunned through a right hand turn and up the little hill on Delaware — up up up, hang on there, don’t die on me yet — until the engine coughed and died just as I crested the rise. I punched the clutch in and coasted another block, wrenched the steering wheel around to pull into the parking lot, coasted along another fifty feet, and then made a final, careful right turn to roll slowly, just as the truck ran out of its last bit of momentum, into the gas station.